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OTHER WORKS BY PROF. GEO. L. RAYMOND. 



Poetry as a Representative Art. 8°, cloth extra . . . $1.75 

"I have read it with pleasure and a sense of instruction on many points." — Francis 
Turner Palgrave, Professor of Poetry, Oxford University. 

" Dieses ganz vortreffliche W&x\..' n —Englische Studien, Universitdt Breslau. 

"There are absolute and attainable standards of poetic excellence. . . . Perhaps 
they have never been so well set forth as by Professor Raymond." — Boston Traveller. 

"Treats a broad and fertile subject with scholarly proficiency and earnestness, and an 
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— New Orleans Times-Democrat. 

The Genesis of Art-Form. An Essay in Comparative yEsthetics. Fully 
illustrated. 8° $2.25 

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rare degree the qualities of philosophical criticism." — Philadelphia Press. 

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" Scores an advance upon the many . . . art-criticisms extant. . . . Twenty 
brilliant chapters . . . pregnant with suggestion. . . . An author not bound by 
mental servitude." — Popular Science Monthly. 

" His style is good and his logic sound ; and . . . the subject ... is of the 
greatest possible service to the student of artistic theories." — Art Journal. 

"We would cordially recommend this book to all who wish to import something of de- 
liberation and accuracy into their thinking about matters of art. A book like this is 
specially welcome at the present day." — The Realm (London). 

Rhythm and Harmony in Poetry and Music. Together with Music 
as a Representative Art. Two Essays in Comparative ^Esthetics. 
12°, cloth $1.75 

" Read through from beginning to end, the book shows solid reading, sound positions, 
and pat significance in the details which prove them." — The Observer. 

" The book contains much that is suggestive and valuable." — The Bookman. 

A Life in Song. 16 , cloth extra . $1.00 

" Marked by a fertility and strength of imagination worthy of our first poets." — Boston 
Literary World. 

Ballads of the Revolution, and Other Poems. 16 , cloth extra, .75 

" The work of a genuine poet." — The New York Evening Post. 

" A very unusual success ... to which genuine poetic power has not more con- 
tributed than wide reading." — Cincinnati Times. 

Sketches in Song. 1 6°, cloth extra 75 

" A work of true genius, brimful of imagination and sweet humanity." — London Fireside. 
" Fine and strong, its thought original and suggestive, while its expression is the very 
perfection of narrative style." — New York Critic. 

Pictures in Verse. With 20 illustrations by Maud Stumm. Square 
8°, in ornamental cloth covers . . . . . . . .75 

"Little love-poems of a light and airy character, describing pretty rustic scenes or 
domestic interiors. . . . As charming for its illustrations as for its reading matter."— 
Detroit Free Press. 

G. P. PUTNAM'S SONS 

NEW YORK LONDON 

27 West Twenty-third Street 24 Bedford Street, Strand 



PAINTING, SCULPTURE 

AND 

ARCHITECTURE 

AS REPRESENTATIVE ARTS 

AN ESSAY IN 

COMPARATIVE ESTHETICS 



GEORGE LANSING RAYMOND, L.H.D. 

n 

>ROFESSOR OF .ESTHETICS IN THE COLLEGE OF NEW JERSEY AT PRINCETON ; AUTHOR OF 

" ART IX THEORY," " POETRY AS A REPRESENTATIVE ART," " THE GENESIS OF 

ART-FORM," "RHYTHM AND HARMONY IN POETRY AND MUSIC," ETC. 




G. P. PUTNAM'S SONS 



NEW YORK 

27 WEST TWENTY-THIRD STREET 



LONDON 

24 BEDFORD STREET, STRAND 



%\i iiniclurbocker press 

1895 



^ 



*? 



COPYRIGHT, 1895 

BY 

G. P. PUTNAM'S SONS 
Entered at Stationers' Hall, London 



Ube Iknfcherbocfeer ipress, IRew TCocbellc, 1ft. 12. 



PREFACE. 



T^HIS book contains an application to the arts of sight 
of the principles unfolded in the volume entitled 
" Art in Theory." For the benefit of readers not 
acquainted with that volume, its general conclusions have 
been briefly reviewed in the first two chapters of this, 
which chapters, without lessening the intelligibility of the 
rest of the discussion, may be omitted by those not inter- 
ested in the philosophy of the subject. In connection 
with this review, and also, to an extent, in other parts of 
the volume, the various factors entering into visible repre- 
sentation have been correlated to those entering into 
audible representation as already unfolded in the volume 
entitled " Poetry as a Representative Art " and in the 
essay on " Music as a Representative Art," published in 
the volume entitled " Rhythm and Harmony in Poetry 
and Music." 

As for visible representation considered by itself, the 
principles underlying this have, for the first time, been 
shown to be the same as applied not only in the higher 
arts of painting, sculpture, and architecture, but also in the 
art intimately connected with the first two, of pantomime 
or gesture, as well as in the methods of reading character, 
hardly less intimately connected with them, which are 
employed with various degrees of success in physiology, 
physiognomy, phrenology, and palmistry. 



IV PREFA CE. 

Like the other books of this series, the present is amply 
illustrated ; in part to enable those who cannot obtain 
access to galleries or libraries to understand exactly what 
is meant by its statements ; in part to enable them, 
through numerous examples, to come to a perception of 
the truth of these statements. This latter result is by no 
means easy to attain. Few things require more time, if 
for no other reason, because they necessitate experience, 
than learning to recognize, put together, spell out, and 
read fluently the symbols representing the subtle language 
of the arts whether of sound or of sight. To conduct the 
reader through certain preliminary stages of this process, 
is the object of this book. It is acknowledged that the 
pathway through which he will be led is a little unu- 
sual, and so too the conception of representative signifi- 
cance at which he is expected to arrive. But it is 
hoped that he will not therefore be deterred from giving 
the treatment candid consideration. 

This remark applies not only to the general reader, but 
even to some acknowledged specialists. I once went 
over the motives of Wagner with the most broadly 
cultured musician whom I knew, and I found that while 
he perceived, at once, the representative elements in what 
are ordinarily termed imitative passages, he failed to per- 
ceive them, till pointed out to him, in many other passages 
so unmistakably developed from the intonations of speech 
that to me they seemed to talk — of course only in the 
sense of voicing the trend of emotive processes which 
alone is possible to music — almost as plainly as if the 
notes were words. The fact struck me, at first, as strange, 
my own musical education having been limited, aside from 
vocal studies, to seven or eight years' practice on the 
piano, a course in thorough bass and harmony, and about 



PRE FA CE. V 

two years' application of them to an organ played in 
church, — all before I was out of my teens. But upon 
reflection, I understood that what he lacked was my 
twenty years' experience in teaching the melody of 
speech. So with the significance of visible form. One 
whose experience has forced him, as mine has, to the 
conclusion that every shape of the human body, natural 
or assumed, has a meaning peculiar to itself, though pos- 
sibly beyond even an expert's power of interpretation, 
finds himself, very soon, according to the principle of 
association, drawing the same conclusion with reference 
to all shapes, whether human or not human. Those 
who think it not essential to discuss the general accuracy 
of this conclusion, as applied to all phenomena audible or 
visible ; or who imagine that, if true, art has no mission 
in revealing and emphasizing it, have, simply, not learned 
all that life is designed to teach them ; or those who 
conceive that the methods through which art can fulfil 
this mission can be apprehended and appreciated with- 
out their stopping to think over each detail of the subject, 
to examine the exemplifications of it, and to apply many 
original tests of their own to it, have not yet begun to 
learn the methods through which life can teach them any- 
thing of deep importance. 

Nor can it be said that, at the present time, there is no 
need of a book dealing with this subject, or with the other 
subjects which have been treated in this series of volumes. 
Everybody who reads much is probably aware that, as 
applied to the plastic arts, statements go practically un- 
challenged which assert — to quote from reviews upon 
"Art in Theory" published in prominent journals — that 
"Art is the application to anything" — the italics are 
quoted — " in the spirit of play and for pleasure only, of 



VI 



PREFACE. 



the principle of proportion," or that " Art is simply, 
wholly, and entirely a matter of form . . . the best 
critical judgment nowadays assumes the identity of the 
art-form with the art-meaning." But few are aware that 
the result has followed which a logical mind would at once 
have anticipated, namely, that the same theory is applied 
to all the arts — to poetry, for instance. If they did know 
this, they might begin to surmise the danger of the situa- 
tion. Think of the literary prospects of a country, of the 
possibilities of its receiving any inspiring impulses from its 
poets at a period when new authors, writing with the 
acknowledged motive of Dante, Milton, or Wordsworth, 
would, for this reason and for no other reason, fail to com- 
mend themselves to the leaders of literary opinion ! Yet 
one who has followed the views expressed in what maybe 
termed the professional critical journals of our country, 
would not be far astray in claiming that this accurately 
describes our own condition. The same France from 
which we have derived the notion that significance is not 
essential to painting, has also taught us, and the lesson 
has been accepted and subtly assimilated so as to become, 
almost unconsciously to ourselves, a part of the literary 
belief of some of us, that it is not essential, either, to 
poetry. In fact, Max Nordau's statement in " Degenera- 
tion," that " The theory of the importance of form, of the 
intrinsic value of beauty in the sound of words, of the 
sensuous pleasure to be derived from sonorous syllables 
without regard to their sense, and of the uselessness and 
even harmfulness of thought in poetry has become deci- 
sive in the most recent development of poetry," could 
be applied to France not only but to our own country. 
What Nordau means he indicates by quotations, — this, for 
instance, from Theophile Gautier : " For the poet words 



PREFACE. VI 1 

have in themselves, and outside the sense they express, a 
beauty and a value of their own. . . . Nothing is less 
ideal than a poet." He " is a laborer; he ought not to 
have more intelligence than a laborer." Also this from 
Charles Baudelaire : " If the poet has pursued a moral 
aim, he has diminished his poetic power, and it is not im- 
prudent to wager that his work will be bad. Poetry has 
not truth for its object, it has only itself." And this from 
Gustave Flaubert: "A beautiful verse meaning nothing 
is superior to a verse less beautiful meaning something," 
which latter has been echoed in England by Oscar Wilde, 
who apparently is able in more departments than one to 
get along without those dualities which ordinary mortals 
suppose to be desirable. " From time to time," he says, 
" the world cries out against some charming artistic poet 
because, to use its hackneyed and silly phrase, he has 
1 nothing to say.' But if he had something to say he would 
probably say it, and the result would be tedious. It is 
just because he has no new message that he can do beau- 
tiful work." 

The reason why such writers fail to comprehend that 
which is true of representative significance, is easy enough 
to understand. Art is a complex subject. Significance is 
no more essential in it than is technique ; and the mere 
rudiments of this it takes years to master. As both Goethe 
and Longfellow have told us, the pathway to art, even if 
by this we mean merely the art of versifying, or of coloring 
with proficiency, is long. Unfortunately for many it is so 
very long that before they are fairly in sight of its termi- 
nation they have apparently lost sight of everything else. 
Nevertheless the general, if not the aesthetic, public, upon 
whose judgment the rank of the art-work must ultimately 
depend, know and care little about technique, except so 



Vlll 



PREFACE. 



far as it has enabled the artist to secure for his product 
a certain satisfactory representative effect. But this effect 
depends in some cases as much upon what may be termed 
the expressional norm chosen as the nucleus of develop- 
ment, as upon the method of its development ; in other 
words, as much upon that which is significant in the work 
as upon that which is excellent in its form. As shown in 
Chapters IV. to VII. of "Art in Theory," successful art is 
always the insignia with which the play-impulse decorates 
that which before the decoration has shown in practical 
relations its right to receive it. Just as a successful drama 
is an artistic development of imagination at play with the 
words of natural conversation ; so a successful melody is 
a development of the same at play with the intonations of 
natural conversation ; and a successful picture, of the same 
at play with the outlines and colors of natural scenes. 
What imagination does is to elaborate the form, this 
being accomplished in our own day through carrying out 
the laws of complicated systems of rhythm, harmony, 
drawing, or coloring. But the forms that art, if high art, 
in each case elaborates, are forms of expressing thought 
and emotion. 

If this statement be true, the theories of this book have 
a practical as well as a theoretical bearing. Some time 
ago I listened to a rendering by a college glee club of the 
" Merry Miller " chorus from DeKoven's " Rob Roy." 
The question and answer " What, Margery ? — Ay, Mar- 
gery," were sung in an unpardonably expressionless way; 
yet because true to the intonations of speech, they took 
the audience by storm ; and I can now recall no melody 
of great popularity in which underneath all the decorative 
vestiture of the form, however much the pitch may be 
pushed up here or pulled down there, it is not possible to 



PREFA CE. IX 

detect general outlines true to certain first principles of 
vocal expression. Some melodies, indeed, like " Comin' 
thro' the Rye " can be talked off with absolute fidelity 
to every musical note. But if melody be thus developed 
from speech, the same must be remotely true of harmony 
for this, in its turn, as shown in Chapters XII. to XV. of 
" Rhythm and Harmony," is itself, in its incipiency, a de- 
velopment of melody. 

It is true that it is said of the melodies of speech, as 
well as of the movements of gesture, such as are consid- 
ered in the present volume, that their significance differs 
in different countries. But those who say this, as some 
have done, imagining the statement, however true, to 
involve a refutation of any principle advanced in this 
series of essays, merely show how superficially they have 
read them. As applied to music, for instance, such a 
statement is not made with reference to time, force, or 
volume — only with reference to pitch, as used in the 
inflections. But in " Rhythm and Harmony," pages 265 
to 267, it is very carefully shown that the inflection is not 
representative of the phraseology but of the motive ex- 
pressed in the phraseology, many instances being cited in 
which precisely the same phrases are rightly uttered with 
exactly opposite inflections. This being understood, the 
objection mentioned falls to the ground. When, for 
instance, for reasons which the reference just given will 
indicate, an American says to you at the table, " Will you 
please pass me the bread ? " with a rising inflection on 
the last word, what is uppermost in his mind is to indi- 
cate his acknowledgment that your action in the matter 
is questionable ; and that he leaves it open for you to do 
as you choose. But when an Englishman asks the same 
question, as he almost invariably does, with a falling 



PREFACE. 



inflection, what is uppermost in his mi«nd is to make an 
assertion with reference to his wishes, and to indicate, as, 
in other matters, he is apt to do to such an extent as to 
seem, at times, slightly dictatorial, that it is not open for 
you to differ from him in thinking that, if you are a 
gentleman, you are expected to do as he— gently — bids 
you. People of Southern Europe, even Irishmen, some- 
times end what seem positive assertions with an upward 
turn of the voice. But they are not positive assertions. 
They are grammatical forms of assertion as uttered by 
men with habits acquired by being constantly contra- 
dicted, or, at least, obliged to subordinate their own views 
to those of others, who alone are supposed to have a right 
to speak with authority. Of course, such methods of 
intonation, once acquired, may be continued from father 
to son by imitation. But despite the tendency to this 
latter, they usually cease to be continued after social and 
religious conditions change. One generation of residence 
in America will train any foreigner, whatever his language, 
to express his decided sentiments just as in his own land 
his own babe, before learning to imitate, invariably does, 
without any such questionable suggestion. Again a 
Bedouin will beckon you toward himself with a quick 
movement of his hand, the palm of which is not turned 
up, as with us, but down. What does this form of ges- 
ture mean? Very clearly, that the Bedouin, while he 
wishes you nearer himself, is not opening his whole 
heart to you, or asking you to occupy a position 
on a social or sympathetic level with himself. On the 
contrary, unconsciously, perhaps, he is on his guard 
against you and intends to keep you in a safe and 
proper place — below him. See pages 156 to 161. In 
fact, the character of his gesture affords an almost posi- 



PREFACE. XI 

tive proof of the hostile nature of those with whom he and 
his fathers have for years been accustomed to associate. 

Similar explanations might show that other apparent 
exceptions to the principles unfolded in these essays fur- 
nish, when intelligently interpreted, the strongest possible 
confirmation of their universal applicability ; though, of 
course, among the hundreds of illustrations used or sug- 
gesting themselves to the reader, it would be strange if 
some were not found which it would be difficult to recon- 
cile with any principle whatever. 

But it is hoped that a few such examples which, possi- 
bly, on second thought, the author might explain, or the 
reader apprehend differently, will not deter any from a 
serious consideration of the principles themselves, the 
acceptance of which cannot fail to have an important 
influence upon all one's views either of art or of life. For, 
if true, they show that the poems, symphonies, paintings, 
statues, and buildings produced by the artist differ from 
the elementary forms of these produced before his appear- 
ance, mainly in the greater degree in which he has learned to 
read through forms, whether human or not, that which is 
in the soul of man and of all things. For one who prac- 
tises art or enjoys it, or takes any interest in it whatever, 
though not beyond a perception that it is about him and 
has come to stay ; and not only for such an one, but for all 
who live in a world surrounded by appearances which could 
awaken infinitely more interest, were it believed that 
every slightest feature of them might be recognized to be 
definitely significant and suggestive and, therefore, in- 
structive and inspiring, — this, certainly, is a conception of 
art and of life and of the relations between them, which 
is worth holding. 

Princeton, September, 1895. 



CONTENTS. 



Correspondences between the Principles of Rep- 
resentation in the Arts of Sound and of 
Sight . 1-13 

The Higher Arts as All Representative — Of Mental Processes 
— Of Material Phenomena — The Principle of Correspondence by 
Way of Association and Comparison, as Applied to Language — 
Representation by Instinctive Exclamations — By Reflective Imita- 
tive Sounds — Poetry and Music as Developed from these Two 
Methods — Correspondences by Way of Association and Comparison 
in the Arts of Sight — Differences in the Ways in which the Two 
are Recognized and Used — The Instinctive and Reflective Tenden- 
cies as Respectively Manifested in Painting, Sculpture, and Archi- 
tecture — The Emotive as a Combination of Both Tendencies — 
Illustrated by Facts. 

II. 

Correspondences between the Factors of Rep- 
resentation in the Arts of Sound and of 
Sight 14-22 

Factors of Visible Representation to be Considered Separately 
and as Combined — Duration, Time, and Pauses in Sounds Corre- 
lated to Extension, Size, and Outlines in Shapes — Force, Gradation, 
and Regularity among Sounds Correlated to Similar Effects in 
Shapes — Measures, Rhythm, and Accent Correlated to Measure- 
ments Proportion and Shading — Pitch and Quality of Sounds Corre- 
lated to Effects of Color — Effects of Accent on the Pitch of Tones 
Correlated to that of Shading upon Color — Each Factor of Visible 
Effect Representative — Instinctive, Reflective, and Emotive Rep- 
resentation Illustrated as Applied to Extension or Size — As Applied 
to Shading and Color. 



XIV CONTENTS. 

III. 

PAGE 

Representation by Means of Extension or Size 23S& 

Representation in Art Based upon Methods of Expressing Thought 
and Emotion through the Use of the Human Body — Size as Rep- 
resenting Heaviness, Strength, Immovability, Substantiality, or the 
Opposite — As Representing the Important, Influential, Dignified, 
or the Opposite — The Representation of these Conceptions Made 
Consistent with the Representation of Actual External Appear- 
ances through the Laws of Perspective as Indicating Nearness — 
Differences between Requirements of Representation in these Arts 
and in Music and Architecture — Similarity, Nevertheless, in the 
Methods of Representation — As Applied also to the Laws of Per- 
spective — Recapitulation and Illustrations of these Methods as Ap- 
plied to Size. 

IV. 

Representing by Means of Shape : the Accenting 

or Shading of Outlines .... 39~54 

Force, Pitch, and Quality, as Exemplified in the Arts of Sound — 
Illustrations — Pause and Accent as Correlated to Outline and Shad- 
ing — Touch or Handling as Differing in Strength, Gradation, and 
Regularity : Strength — Examples of Strength and Delicacy of 
Touch in Outline Sketches — Other Examples — The Same as Ap- 
plied in Connection with Color — As Applied in Sculpture — As Ap- 
plied in Architecture — The Importance of the Effects of Light and 
Shade in this Art. 

V. 

Gradation in the Outlines of Shapes, Curved, 

Angular and Both Combined . . . 55-87 

Meaning and Effect of Gradation as Applied to Outline — Effects 
of Gradation in the Arts of Sound — Corresponding Effects in the 
Arts of Sight — Three Methods of Describing the Outlines of a 
Form — Each Method Representative of both Mental and Material 
Conditions — How Drawing by the Hand is Representative of 
Instructive, Reflective, and Emotive Mental Conditions — How the 
Actions of the Body are Representative of the Same — How 
Appearances in Nature are Similarly Representative to the Mind 
of the Spectator — Curvature — Angularity and Straight Lines — Hori- 



CONTENTS. XV 

PAGE 

zontality and Effects of Repose, Verticality and Effects of Elevation 
and Aspiration — Mixed Lines and Effects of Excitation — Illustra- 
tions from Landscape Gardening — From Painting and Sculpture — 
Quotations Confirming these Explanations as Applied to Painting 
— To Sculpture — Similar Outlines as Used in Architecture — Their 
Representative Meanings : The Rounded Forms — The Straight 
Lines and Angles — The Combinations of Both — Recapitulation. 

VI. 

Regularity in Outlines : Radiation, Parallel- 
ism, Circles, and Ovals .... 88-105 

Regularity as Applied to Sizes and Shapes — Framework of Lines 
on which Art-Products are Constructed — How this Accords with 
the Requirements of Nature in General, as in Radiation or Central 
Point — As in Setting — As in Parallelism — Also with the Require- 
ments of Individual Objects in Nature — This Framework Accords 
with the Requirements both of Mental Conceptions and Material 
Appearances — Significance of Regularity and Irregularity in 
Representations of the Mind — Of External Natural Phenomena 
— Blending of Regularity and Irregularity in the Human Form and 
Face — As Judged by an Ideal Framework — Its Vertical Lines — Its 
Horizontal Lines — Facial Regularity does not Involve Sameness 
— Slight Departures from it not Inconsistent with a Degree of 
Beauty — Great Departures Allowable for the Sake of Expression or 
Contrast — Necessity of Considering Differences and Deviations in 
Regularity Especially as Manifested in the Innate and Assumed 
Appearances of Men. 

VII. 

Representation Through the Natural Shapes 

of the Human Body : General Principles, 106-124 

Importance to Art of the Study of the Meaning of the Shapes and 
Postures of the Human Figure — Sources of Information on this 
Subject — Relation of the Subject to Physical Facts — Meaning of 
Roundness or Broadness, Sharpness or Narrowness, and Length — 
Indicative Respectively of the Vital, the Mental, and the Motive 
Temperaments — Correlation between these and the Tendencies 
of Outline already Considered — The Forms Necessitated by the 
Physiological Conditions Underlying the Three— The Vital and 



XVI 



CONTENTS. 



Breadth of Form — The Mental or Interpretive and Sharpness at 
the Extremities — Connection between the Vital and Mental as 
Indicated by Length — The Motive or Active and Length of Spine 
and Muscles — The Same Shapes as Interpreted According to the 
Observations of Phrenology — Of Physiognomy — The Round Face — 
The Sharp Face — The Long Face — Of Palmistry — Different 
Temperaments are Usually Blended in All Men — Mental Tenden- 
cies Corresponding to All the Temperaments Exist in Each — How 
They are Manifested by the Torso and Lower Limbs — By the 
Hands and Head — In Connection with Activity. 

VIII. 

Representation Through the Postures of the 

Human Body : General Principles . . 125-140 

Three Divisions of the Subject, namely, the Sources, Directions, 
and Forms of the Movements — The Vital or Physical Sources of 
Movements Show that the Vital Tendency Leads to Instinctive, 
Unconscious, Unpremeditated Expression — The Mental Tendency 
to Reflective, Conscious, and Premeditated Expression — The 
Motive, Emotive, or Moral Tendency to a Combination of the Two 
Forms of Expression — The Mental or Interpretive Directions of 
the Movements Show that Vital Expressions Move away from the 
Body — Mental Expressions Move toward it — Motive Expressions 
are in Combinations of the Other Two, as when Alternating or 
Oblique — Delsarte's Theories — The Active Effects of the Move- 
ments are, in the Case of Vital Expression, Free, Graceful, and 
Round — Of Mental Expression, Constrained, Awkward, Straight 
— Of Motive Expression in Action Covering Much Space, hence 
Long — If Very Emotive, Varied and Angular — If Moral, Tense 
and Rigid — How the Actor's and Orator's Movements Combine 
Curvature and Straightness, Grace and Strength. 



IX. 

Representation Through Particular Gestures 

of the Torso and Limbs. . . . 141-164 

Complex Nature of the Subjects to be Treated and the Order in 
which they will be Considered — Different Parts of the Body as Im- 
parting a Peculiar Phase to Emphasis — Vital versus Mental Move- 



CONTENTS. XV11 

PAGE 

ments of the Body in Genera] Illustrating this : Those Mainly 
Physical of the Lower 'Torso— Of the Lower Limbs — Mainly 
Mental of the Hands and Head with Upper Torso — Mainly 
Emotive of the Upper Torso with Shoulders and Arms — Mental or 
Interpretive Movements of the Hands — The Place in the Physical 
Sphere in which the Hand is Held : Horizontal Extension — 
Vertical, Downward, and Upward Extension — Meaning of Gestures 
as Determined by their Physical Relations, as About, Below, or 
Above the Breast — Indicative not of Actual so much as Conceived 
Relations — Interpretive Shapes Assumed by the Hand — Physical 
Suggestions of the Fist — Mental of the Fingers — Emotive of the 
Palm — Closing Gesture with Averted Palm — Opening Gesture with 
the Opposite — Motive Expression in the Methods of Managing the 
Arms — Movement From and Toward the Body and in Both 
Ways. 



Representation Through Positions and Move- 
ments of the Head and Face . . . 165-191 

Correspondences between Gestures of the Head and of the Rest of 
the Body — Physical Movements of the Head Toward or From 
Objects or Persons, Directly, Sideward, or Obliquely — Phases of 
Mentality Suggested by its Different Parts — Illustrations of how 
these Parts Operate in Connection with the Movements — Compli- 
cated Nature of Expression by Movements of the Head, Eyes, 
and Facial Muscles — Meaning of Movements or Positions of the 
Head Forward with the Eyes Looking on a Level — With the Eyes 
Looking Downward — -Or Upward — Meaning of Movements or 
Positions of the Head Backward with the Eyes Looking on a 
Level — With the Eyes Looking Downward — Or Upward — Mean- 
ing of Normal Positions of the Head — Difficulty of Distinguish- 
ing between these Different Movements or Positions — Facial 
Expression Corresponding to Shapes Assumed by the Fingers in 
Hand Gestures — Rigid Physical Effects like those of the Fist with 
Mouth, Brows, and Nose — Mental Effects of Concentration, like 
those of the Finger — Emotive Effects as in the Closing and Open- 
ing Gestures, Through Using Muscles of the Mouth — The Eye- 
brows — The Eyes — The Nostrils — Outline Diagrams of Different 
Effects — Comic Effects. 



XV111 CONTENTS. 

XI. 

PAGE 

Representation by Means of Color . . . 192-212 

Correspondence between the Effects of Tone in Sounds and of 
Color in Scenes — Mental Effects of Different Degrees of Light — 
Instinctive, Reflective, and Emotive Effects — Effects of Pitch and 
Quality in Color, as in Sound, very Closely Allied — Representative 
Effects of Different Qualities of Tone — Their Correspondences in 
Colors — Cold Colors and Normal or Pure Tones as Instinctive — 
Warm Colors and Orotund Tones as Reflective — Varied Colors as 
Emotive — Confirmation of these. Correspondences from Facts of 
Experience — From the Use of Color in Painting — Especially the 
Human Countenance — In Sculpture — In Architecture — Represen- 
tation of Natural Effects of Distance through Cold and Warm 
Colors in Painting — In Architecture — Correspondence between the 
Effects of Mixed Tones and Colors — Representative Influence of 
Black— With Cold Colors— With Warm Colors— Of White with 
Cold Colors — W'ith Warm Colors — Further Illustrations — Conclu- 



XII. 

The Development of Representation in Paint- 
ing and Sculpture ..... 213-238 

Connection between what is to Follow and what has Preceded — 
How Poetry and Music are Developed from Language and Intona- 
tion — Analogous Methods as Exemplified in Painting, Sculpture, 
and Architecture — Prehistoric Pictorial Art — Representing External 
Appearances not only, but Mind — Earliest Art of a Historic Period 
— Picture Writing — Hieroglyphic Writing — Description of — Art as 
Distinguished from Writing in Egypt — In Greece — Early Represen- 
tation of Ideas and Later of Natural Appearances only — Symbolism 
of Early Christian Art and Naturalism of Later Art — Ideas and 
Nature as Represented at the Renaissance and at Present — Possi- 
bility of Two Opposing Tendencies — Justification for each of them 
— Yet need not Exclude each other — So far as Exclusive each is 
Detrimental — Practical Application of these Facts to Present 
Conditions — The Yellow Book — American Illustrated Magazines — 
Importance of the Subject. 



CONTENTS. XIX 

XIII. 

PAGE 

Represextation of Mental Conceptions in 

Painting and Sculpture .... 239-253 

Our Interest in Objects of Sight is Influenced by their Effects 
upon our Thoughts and Emotions — Bearing of this Fact upon 
Representation in Painting and Sculpture — Bearing of the Same 
upon the Use of the Term, The Humanities — Practical Reasons 
for Disregarding the Importance of Significance — Attention to 
Significance not Inconsistent with Equal Attention Given to Form 
— Nor Attention to Form with Attention to Significance — Theo- 
retical Reasons for Disregarding the Importance of Significance : 
Lessing's Theory — The Truth of this not Denied in these Essays — 
The Real Meaning of his Theory — The Principle Underlying it — 
The Reasons Underlying this Principle — Pictures that are not Able 
to Interpret themselves — When a Picture is truly Literary — Illustra- 
tions — Events, though they should not be Detailed in Pictures, may 
be Suggested. 

XIV. 

Forms of Painting Interpretive of their Own 

Significance 254-279 

The Possibility of Significance and the Need of Explanation — 
Quantity and Quality of Significance as Determining Artistic Ex- 
cellence — Subjects as Determining the Rank of Products — 
Execution as Determining the Same — Flowers and Fruit — How 
made Representative of Significance — Landscapes — How made 
Representative of Significance — How still more of the Human 
Element may be Introduced — Other Examples — Figures and Faces 
of Men — Portraits — Characteristic Portraiture — Representative of 
the Artist's Thought and Emotion — Ideal Portraiture — Genre 
Paintings — Symbolical, Allegorical, and Mythological Paintings — 
Historical Paintings — Examples. 

XV. 
Forms of Sculpture Interpretive of their 
Own Significance: the Function of Ex- 
planations ....... 280-290 

Differences between the Subjects of Painting and Sculpture — 
Portraiture in Sculpture — Poetic Description of the Dying Gladiator 



XX CONTENTS. 

PAGE 

— The Laocoon — Symbolic, Allegoric, Religious, Mythologic, and 
Historic Sculpture — Verbal Explanations as an Aid to Artistic 
Effect — Have the Same Relation to Painting and Sculpture as to 
Music — The Interest and Attractiveness of Things Seen is Increased 
by our Knowledge with Reference to them — The Same Principle 
Applies to Things Depicted in Art. 

XVI. 

Representation of Material Appearances in 

Painting and Sculpture .... 291-310 

Form Comes to be Developed for its own Sake — To Appreciate 
Art, we should Know the Technical Aims of the Artist — Books on 
the Subject — Elements of Correct Technique — Lineal Representa- 
tion of Light and Shade — Of Shape and Texture — Of Distance 
and Perspective — " Classic " and " Romantic " Lines — Distinctness 
and Indistinctness of Line — Laws of Perspective — Lineal Represen- 
tation of Life and Movement — Reason for Apparent Lack of 
Accuracy — Same Principles Apply to Sculpture — Elements of 
Correct Coloring — Ignorance of Early Colorists — Value — Origin 
of the Term — Color — Representation of Light and Shade — Of 
Shape and Texture — Of Distance or Aerial Perspective — Of Life 
and Movement — Conclusion. 

XVII. 

The Development of Representation in Archi- 
tecture 311-321 

Modes of Expression in Architecture and Music as Contrasted 
with Painting, Sculpture, and Poetry — The Germs of Music and 
Architecture Antedate those of the Other Arts, but are 
Artistically Developed Later — Music Develops through Poetry, 
and Architecture is Hut-Building Made Picturesque and Stat- 
uesque — Early Attempts to Make Useful Buildings Ornamental — 
Examples — Influences of the Play-Impulse upon All Forms of 
Construction — Illustration of its Effects upon a House — These 
Effects Represent both Mental and Material Conditions — Facts 
Evincing this — Such Effects as Enhancing the Interest. 



CONTENTS. XXI 

XVIII. 

PAGE 

Architectural Representation of Mental 

Conceptions: Foundations and Walls . 322-352 

Representation of the Constructive Idea in the Foundation — The 
Side Walls — Pillars, Buttresses, Pilasters, String-Courses — Effects 
of Satisfaction and Repose versus those of Insecurity in Support 
Afforded by Pillars — Arches — Brackets — Important for the Appa- 
rent Support to be the Real Support — Heavy Cupolas and 
Ventilators — Unrepresentative Pediments — The Purpose of a 
Building as Determining its General Plan — As Determining its 
Interior Arrangements — As Determining its Exterior Appearance — 
Representative of the Interior Plan through the Exterior — Appear- 
ances of Five Cottages Contrasted — The Same Principle Applied 
to Other Buildings, Street Fronts, Palaces — Colleges — Porches. 

XIX. 

Architectural Representation of Mental Con- 
ceptions — Roofs 353 - 37 r 

Domes — False Domes — Useless Cupolas, Pinnacles, Towers, 
Spires — The Same Used as Memorials — Even these should be 
Artistic and so Representative — This Principle as Applied to Spires 
and Towers — The Roof Proper — Rounded Roofs — Roofs as too 
Large and too Small or Invisible — Gutters and Cornices, Plain and 
Castellated — Balustrades as Representing Flat Roofs — Visible Roofs 
in City Streets — Paris Streets and the Court of Honor at the 
Columbian Exhibition — Streets in New York — Objections to High 
Buildings — Legislative Methods of Preventing them — .Esthetic 
Regulations about Sky-line, Color, and Style — The Sky-line and 
Mansard Roof. 

XX. 

Architectural Representation of Material 

Surroundings 372-396 

Object of the Present Chapter — Architecture Involves more than 
Natural Arrangements for Shelter — But is Developed from these — 
Rendered more Representative — Primitive Huts as Developed 
into the Temples on the Acropolis — Primitive Tents as Developed 



XX11 



CONTENTS. 



into the Oriental Temples — Primitive Rounded and Pointed Arches, 
Domes, and Spires, — This Imitation sometimes Conscious, some- 
times Unconscious — Development of Styles Based on Straight 
Lines, Curves, and Angles — Criticism on the Views of Helmholtz 
— The Principles of Correspondence as Fulfilled in Architectural 
Forms — Suggestive and Imitative Representation as Fulfilled in it 
and in other Arts — Architectural Examples. 



XXI. 

Architectural Representation 
Surroundings Continued 



of Material 



397-408 



The Order of Representative Development in Architecture — Styles 
Imitating Appearances in Nature — Testimony of Facts — Applied to 
Interiors and Exteriors — Developments of the Imitative in the 
other Arts — Possibilities of its Development in Architecture — 
New Uses of Metals — The Development of the Tendency might 
not Improve the Art — Would Necessitate the Exercise of Genius — 
What are Valid Arguments against such Developments — Sincerity 
in the Use of Material, Natural Woods, etc. — Use of Material 
Natural to a Locality — Conclusion. 



Index 



400 



ILLUSTRATIONS. 



Farnese Hercules by Glycon the Athenian 

From Mitchell's " History of Sculpture." Mentioned on pages 21, 24 
26, 2S1. 



by Giovanni da Bologna 

Wonders of Sculpture." Mentioned on pages 21, 25 



2. Flying Mercury 

From Viardot's " 
26, 62, 73, 135, 152. 

3. Melrose Abbey 

From Fergusson's "History of Architecture." Mentioned on pages 25 
26, 32, 34, 204, 322, 380, 390. 

4. Interior of a Church Near Kostroma, Russia 

From the same. Mentioned on pages 25, 26, 32, 34. 

5. Piankhi Receiving the Submission of Namrut and Others 

From Rawlinson's " Ancient Egypt." Mentioned on pages 27, 50, 222. 

6. Heracles, Triton, and Nereids, from Doric Temple a\ 

Assos 

From C. E. Clement's " Outline History of Sculpture." Mentioned on 
pages 27, 222. 

7. Henry II. Receiving from God the Crown, etc 

From Baring-Gould's " Germany." Mentioned on page 27. 

8. Pollice Verso, by Gerome 

From a photograph. Mentioned on pages 28, 34, 91, 274, 287, 295 

9. A Scene in the Woods ..... 

From Cassell's " Sunlight and Shade." Mentioned o 

10. Egyptian Lotus-Leaf Capital from Edfu 

From Lubke's " History of Art." Mentioned on pages 32, 394, 398. 

11. Ancient Corinthian Capital 

From Fergusson's " History of Architecture." Mentioned on pages 32 
380, 398. 

12. Cathedral of St. Isaac's, St. Petersburg 

From Cassell's " All the Russias." Mentioned on pages 34, 36, 3 
78, 82, 352, 353, 356, 380. 

13. House of Parliament, England .... 

From a photograph. Mentioned on pages 34, 38, 42, 52, 322, 358 

14. Temple of Theseus, Athens ..... 

From Lubke's " History of Art." Mentioned on pages 34, 35, 3 
84, 86, 322, 323, 3S0, 386, 387, 389. 

15. St. Mark's, Venice 

From a photograph. Mentioned on pages 36, 38, 42, 52, 78, 82, 86, 380 



pages 32, 73, 399 



42, 52 



42, 5 2 



PAGE 

20 



24 

25 
27 

27 

29 
3* 

33 
34 
34 

35 

36 
36 



XXIV 



ILLUSTRA TIONS. 



1 6. Light and Shade, by Walter Crane .... 

From Cassell's Magazine of Art. Mentioned on pages 18, 41, 44, 46 

294, 307. 

17. Lines Expressive of Storm, by Walter Crane 

From the same. Mentioned on pages 18, 44, 66, 72, 259. 

18. Lines Expressive of Repose, by Walter Crane . 

From the same. Mentioned on pages 18, 44, 70, 73, 90, 92, 259. 

19. Pallas of Velletri ....... 

From Viardot's " Wonders of Sculpture." Mentioned on pages 49, ^6, 281 

20. Apollo Sauroctonos, by Praxiteles .... 

From Cassell's " Gods of Olympus." Mentioned on pages 49, 61, 76, 136, 
223, 281. 

21. The Laocoon Group 

From C. E. Clement's " Outline History of Sculpture." Mentioned on 
pages 49, 77, 174, 223, 281, 284, 285. 

22. Group from the Mausoleum of Maria Christina, by Canova 

at Vienna 

From Viardot's " Wonders of Sculpture." Mentioned on pages 50, 73 

263, 286. 

23. The Soldier's Return. Relief on National Monument 

near Bingen on the Rhine 

From a photograph. Mentioned on pages 50, 286, 302. 

24. Old South Church, Boston, Mass 

From Cassell's " The World and its Cities and People." Mentioned on 
pages 35, 54, 84, 331, 380. 

25. Trinity Church, Boston, Mass 

From the same. Mentioned on pages 35, 54, 84, 323, 334, 380. 

26. Figure from-the Nausica, by E. J. Poynter 

From Cassell's Magazine of Art. Mentioned on pages 61, 72, 129, 130, 133 

27. Pedant's Proposition of Marriage, from Etching by 

Daniel Chodowieck 

From the same. Mentioned on pages 61, 138, 147, 160, 161, 169, 175. 

28. The Apollo Belvedere 

From Lubke's " History of Art." Mentioned on pages 62, 138, 147, 149 
151, 224, 281. 

29. Author and Critics, by H. Stacy Marks, R.A. 

From Cassell's Magazine of Art. Mentioned on pages '62, 151, 152 156 
T 72, i73, *77- 

30. Lines Illustrative of Action, by Walter Crane 

From the same. Mentioned on pages 62, 72, 145. 

31. An Attack 

From a drawing by C. C. Rosenkranz. Mentioned on pages 62, 145 
167, 171. 

32. Tissington Spires, England ...... 

From Cassell's " Our Own Country." Mentioned on pages 65, 66, 70, 72 

259, 399- 

33. Repose in Landscape and Figure, by Walter Crane 

From Cassell's Magazine of Art. Mentioned on pages 70, 73, 90, 259. 



PAGE 
41 



ILLUSTKA TIONS. 



XXV 



34. The Aurora, by Guido 

From the same. Mentioned on pages 61, 72, 136, 265, 272. 

35. The Adoration of the Magi, by Paul Veronesi . 

From Lubke's " History of Art." Mentioned on pages 73, 174, 263, 276. 

36. The Rape of the Sabines, by N. Poussin 

From a drawing from Scribner's " Cyclopedia of Painters and Painting.' 
Mentioned on pages 46, 75, 87. 

37. Athena of the Capitol 

From C. E. Clement's " Outline History of Sculpture." Mentioned on 
pages 76, 224, 281. 

3S. Venus de' Medici 

From Mitchell's " History of Sculpture." Mentioned on pages 76, 138 
142, 223, 225, 281. 

39. The Death of Ananias — Cartoon by Raphael 

From a photograph. Mentioned on pages 61, 62, 77, 137, 138, 140, 145 
147, 156, 158, 161, 167, 170, 177, 178, 226, 287. 

40. Old Pictures of St. Sophia, Constantinople 

From Lane-Poole's " Turkey." Mentioned on pages 78, 82, 86, 380. 

41. Cologne Cathedral 

From a photograph. Mentioned on pages 35, 52, 78, 82, 84, 86, 323, 
380, 405. 

42. The Russian Church, Paris 

From Fergusson's " History of Modern Architecture." 
pages 82, 84, 86, 323. 

43. Interior of Beverley Minster, England 

From a photograph. Mentioned on pages 32, 82, 84, 380 

44. Avenue of Palms at Rio-de-Janeiro .... 

From Cassell's " Countries of the World." Mentioned on pages, 32, 73 
84, 399i 403- 

45. Japanese Compositions 

From Kotsugaro Yenouge's "Fine Art Pictures." Mentioned on pages 
9°, 93- 

46. Human Figure Proportionately Divided by Lines 

Drawn over an illustration from Putnam's " Art Hand-Book of Figure 
Drawing." Mentioned on pages 90, 97, 98. 

47. Front Face Proportionately Divided by Lines . 

From the same. Mentioned on pages 90, 97, 98, 101. 

48. Side Face Proportionately Divided by Lines 

From the same. Mentioned on pages 90, 97, 98. 

49. Eye and Ear Proportionately Divided by Lines 

From the same. Mentioned on pages 90, 97. 

50. Mephistopheles 

From Well's "New Physiognomy." Mentioned on pages 100, 118, 170 
176, 178. 

51. Face Expressive of Contempt and Anger 

From the same. Mentioned on pages 100, 118, 181, 182, 183, 184, 185, 189 

52. Laughing and Smiling Face 

From Cassell's Magazine of Art. Mentioned on pages 100, 183, 184. 



Mentioned 



399, 4°5- 



PAGE 
71 

72 

75 
76 

77 
79 

80 
81 

83 

84 
85 

93 
96 

97 
97 
98 
99 

99 
100 



XXVI 



ILLUSTRATIONS. 



53- 



Face Proportionately Divided by Lines 

Drawn over a photograph from Dramatic Mirror. 



Mentioned on page 



54. Facp: Proportionately Divided by Lines 

From the same. Mentioned on page 10 1. 

55. Face Proportionately Divided by Lines . 

From the same. Mentioned on page 101. 

56. Face Proportionately Divided by Lines . 

From the same. Mentioned on page 101. 

57. Face Proportionately Divided by Lines . 

From the same. Mentioned on page 101. 

58. St. Michael Overcoming Satan, by Raphael 

From Cassell's Magazine of Art. Mentioned on pages 62, 103, 145, 168. 

59. Goldsmith 

From Well's "New Physiognomy." Mentioned on pages 109, 113, 115, 
117, 119, 124, 187. 

60. Longfellow 

From the same. Mentioned on pages 109, 113, 115, 117, 119, 124. 

61. Phrenologically Divided Head .... 

From the same. Mentioned on pages 115, 124, 167. 

62. Yankee Sullivan 

From the same. Mentioned on pages 115, 119, 124. 

63. Napoleon Bonaparte 

From the same. Mentioned on pages 115, 118. 

64. Albert Barnes ..... 

From the same. Mentioned on pages 115, 117 

65. Broad Hand and Round Fingers ..... 

From a photograph of a drawing. Mentioned on pages 121, 123. 

66. Sharp Hand and Angular Fingers .... 

From the same. Mentioned on pages 121, 123. 

67. Long Hand and Spatulated Fingers .... 

From the same. Mentioned on pages 121, 123. 

68. Drowning Man ........ 

From a drawing by C. C. Rosenkranz. Mentioned on page 129. 

69. Reflection 

From a drawing by Maud Stumm. Mentioned on pages 129, 142, 156, 162 

70. Stern's Maria, Painted by Wright of Derby 

From Cassell's Magazine of Art. Mentioned on pages 129, 142, 156, 168 

71. Upward Closing Gesture 

From a drawing by C. C. Rosenkranz. Mentioned on pages 130, 145, 
152, 156, 161. 

72. Side Closing Gesture 

From the same. Mentioned on pages 130, 140, 156, 158. 

73. Oblique Forward Movement 

From the same. Mentioned on pages 62, 130, 137, 145, 148, 167, 172, 175. 



[19, 120, 124, 169, 
118, 124, 182. 



PAGE 

IOI 



I02 
I02 

IO3 
IO3 
IO4 
IO9 

IO9 
115 
115 
Il6 
117 
I20 
121 
122 
128 
129 

131 
132 

132 
132 



ILLUSTRA TIONS. 



XXV11 



74. Oblique Backward Movement 

From the same. Mentioned on pages 62, 130, 145, 147, 148, 158, 167. 

75. Downward Closing Gesture 

From the same. Mentioned on pages 130, 134, 136, 140, 156, 158. 

76. Closing Finger Gesture Sideward .... 

From the same. Mentioned on pages 134, 136, 156, 158, 159. 

77. Angular Argumentative Movements .... 

From the same. Mentioned on pages 62, 134. 

78. Dancing Movements 

From the same. Mentioned on pages 130, 135, 142. 

79. A New Guinea Chief 

From Cassell's "Picturesque Australia." Mentioned on pages 136, 138 

80. The Woman Taken in Adultery, by N. Poussin . 

From Cassell's Magazine of 'A rt. Mentioned on pages i2g, 140, 155, 158 
161, 168, 174, 186, 276, 287. 

81. Discomfort in the Abdomen 

From a drawing by C. C. Rosenkranz. Mentioned on pages 142, 162. 

82. The Resurrection, by T. Nelson MacLean . 

From Cassell's Magazine of Art Mentioned on pages 140, 142, 151 
152, 160, 161, 162, 167, 174, 286. 

83. The Faun of Praxiteles 

From Lubke's "History of Art." Mentioned on pages 61, 144, 147, 282 

84. Body Prolonged for Moral Effect .... 

From a drawing by C. C. Rosenkranz. Mentioned on pages 62, 138 
145, 152. 

85. Expression with the Foot 

From the same. Mentioned on pages 130, 145. 

86. Expression with the Foot and Leg .... 

From the some. Mentioned on page 145. 

87. Expression with the Foot and Knee .... 

From the same. Mentioned on page 146. 

88. Expression with the Hips 

From the same. Mentioned on pages 138, 147. 

89. Walking with Breast and Brow Advanced . 

From Well's " New Physiognomy." Mentioned on pages 145, 147, 148 
169, 172. 

90. Walking with Face in Advance 

From the same. Mentioned on pages 148, 167, 171. 

91. Faith, Hope, and Love 

From the same. Mentioned on pages 147, 148, 151, 162, 169. 

92. Judas, Peter, and John, from the Last Supper of Leonardo 

From Lubke's " History of Art." Mentioned on pages 147, 148, : " 
167, 169, 173, 287. 

93. Walking Upright 

From Well's " New Physiognomy." Mentioned on pages 149, 160. 



PAGT 

132 
134 
134 
135 
136 

137 
139 

142 
143 

144 
145 

146 
146 
146 

147 
148 

148 
149 
150 

151 



XXV111 



ILL USTRA TIONS. 



94. Adding Insult to Injury, by Gaetano Chierici . 

From Cassell's Magazine of Art. Mentioned on pages 151, 156, 263. 

95. Cain, by Giovanni Dupre . ...... 

From the same. Mentioned on pages 156, 158, 174, 281. 

96. Downward Opening Gesture 

From a drawing by C. C. Rosenkranz. Mentioned on page 160. 

97. Sideward Descriptive Opening Gesture 

From the same. Mentioned on pages 138, 151, 160. 

98. Upward Opening Gesture 

From the same. Mentioned on pages 151, 161. 

99. Boy Surprised 

From a drawing by Maud Stumm. Mentioned on pages 130, 163, 171. 

100. Credulity . . . 

From Well's "New Physiognomy." Mentioned on pages 167, 168, 171 
174. 

101. Unyielding Contemplation . . . . 

From the same. Mentioned on pages 167, 169, 175. 

102. Amiable Suspicion 

From the same. Mentioned on pages 171, 186. 

103. Unamiable Suspicion 

From the same. Mentioned on pages 171, 177. 

104. Thoughtful Attention 

From the same. Mentioned on pages 119, 172, 187. 

105. Confidence 

From the same. Mentioned on page 172. 

106. Galileo 

From the same. Mentioned on page 173. 

107. Ambition 

From the same. Mentioned on pages 173, 186. 

108. Hopelessness 

From the same. Mentioned on pages 173, 186. 

109. Apprehensive Attention 

From the same. Mentioned on page 173. 

1 10. Religious Rapture 

From the same. Mentioned on pages 174, 175, 179. 

in. Unconfiding Attention . . . . . 

From the same. Mentioned on pages 175, 176. 

112. Unconvinced Attention 

From the same. Mentioned on pages 167, 169, 175, 176, 178, 185. 

113. Despair 

From the same. Mentioned on pages 175, 185. 

114. Unconfiding Pride ....... 

From the same. Mentioned on pages 167, 176. 

115. Malice 

From the same. Mentioned on pages 177, 185. 



PAGE 

152 

157 
159 
159 
160 
163 
I6 7 

169 
171 
171 
172 

173 
174 

174 

174 
175 
175 
176 
176 
I 7 6 
177 
177 



ILLUSTRA TIONS. 



116. 
117. 
118. 
119. 
120. 
121. 
122. 
123. 

124. 
125. 
126. 
127. 

128. 

129. 
130. 

131. 
132. 

133- 
134 

137 



Satisfied Confidence 

From the same. Mentioned on page 177 

Impudence .... 

From the same. Mentioned on pages 167, 178 

Faith 

From the same. Mentioned on page 179 

Apprehensive Astonishment . 

From the same. Mentioned on pages 179, 185. 

Triumph 

From the same. Mentioned on page 179 

Rage and Fear 

From the same. Mentioned on pages 174, 181, 

Contemptuous Rage 

From the same. Mentioned on pages 175, 176, 

Reflection .... 

From Duval's "Artistic Anatomy." Mentioned on pages 
186, 188. 

Contempt and Discontent .... 

From the same. Mentioned on pages 121, 183, 185, 188. 

Curiosity 



, 186, 1S9 
178, 181, 182 



From Well's " New Physiognomy." Mentioned on pages 

Apprehensive Grief 

From the same. Mentioned on pages 173, 183, 184, 187. 

Laughter and Gayety 

From Duval's " Artistic Anatomy." Mentioned on pages 
185, 187. 

Disappointed Desire 

From Well's " New Physiognomy." Mentioned on pages 
184, 185. 

Terror 

From the same. Mentioned on pages 173, 183, 184, 185, 188. 

Attention and Astonishment 

From Duval's " Artistic Anatomy." Mentioned on pages 1 

Sorrow . . 

From the same. Mentioned on pages 185, 186, 188. 

Fear 

From Well's " New Physiognomy." Mentioned on pages 178, 185 



82, 184, 185 



l, 184, 187. 




Gayety 



PAGE 

177 

177 
178 
179 
179 
l8l 
l8l 
182 

I83 
I84 
I84 

185 

186 

186 

187 
187 
188 

188 



I89 



Astonished Horror 

From the same. Mentioned on pages 185, 186, 188. 

to 136. De Superville's Diagrams of Calmness, 
and Sadness 

From Duval's " Artistic Anatomy." Mentioned on page 189. 

to 139. Duval's Diagrams of Reflection, Laughter, and 

Sorrow 190 

From the same. Mentioned on page 189. 



XXX ILL US TKA TIONS. 



140 and 141. Duval's Diagrams of Attention, Astonishment, 

and Contempt 190 

From the same. Mentioned on page 189. 

142 and 143. Duval's Diagrams of Grief and Fear . . . 190 

From the same. Mentioned on page 189. 

144. Wells Cathedral, England 205 

From Cassell's " Our Own Country." Mentioned on pages 203, 380, 405. 

145. Figure Carved in Stone Age . . . . . .215 

From Viardot's " Wonders of Sculpture." Mentioned on page 216. 

146. Egyptian Picture from the " Book of the Dead " . . 219 

From Lubke's " History of Art." Mentioned on pages 219, 221, 222. 

147. Ancient Egyptian Face in British Museum . . . 221 

From Mitchell's " History of Sculpture." Mentioned on pages 203, 222. 

148. Figures from Frieze of the Parthenon .... 223 

From C. E. Clement's " Outline History of Sculpture." Mentioned on 
pages 223, 225, 281, 282, 396. 

149. Venus Leaving the Bath : Capitol at Rome . . . 224 

From Viardot's "Wonders of Sculpture." Mentioned on pages 76, 223, 
225, 281, 282. 

150. Ornamental Arcade from the Chapel at Holyrood, 

Scotland 227 

From Fergusson's " History of Architecture." Mentioned on page 226. 

151. The Girlhood of the Virgin Mary, by Rossetti . . 229 

From a photograph. Mentioned on pages 230, 252, 295. 

152. A Storm, by J. F. Millet 231 

From a photograph. Mentioned on pages 230, 253, 259, 260, 295, 300. 

153. Cover of the Catalogue of New York Water Color 

Exhibition 233 

From the Critic. Mentioned on pages 232, 234. 

154. Easter Advertisement of Gorham Manufacturing Co. . 235 

From Gorham Manufacturing Co. Mentioned on page 236. 

155. Relief from the Baptistry at Florence . . . . 247 

From Lubke's " History of Art." Mentioned on pages 248, 286, 302. 

156. The School of Athens, by Raphael 249 

From a photograph from an engraving. Mentioned on pages 201, 248, 
272, 287. 

157. Jewish Cemetery, by Jacob Ruysdael ..... 261 

From Lubke's " History of Art." Mentioned on page 260. 

158. Dignity and Impudence, by Landseer ..... 263 

From a photograph. Mentioned on pages 262, 263. 

159. Statue of Nathan Hale, by Macmonnies .... 267 

From a photograph. Mentioned on pages 267, 281. 

160. Card Players, by Caravaggio . . . . . . 271 

From Lubke's " History of Art." Mentioned on pages 169, 172, 270. 



ILLUSTRATIONS. 



xxxi 



PAGE 

161. A Summer Evening, by Van Beers 273 

From a photograph, with permission of C. T. Yerkes. Mentioned on 
pages 270, 271. 

162. The Dream, by Detaille . 275 

From Cassell's Magazine of Art. Mentioned on pages 158, 172. 

163. The Descent from the Cross, by Rubens .... 277 

From a photograph. Mentioned on pages 202, 276, 287. 

164. The Sacrifice at Lystra, by Raphael 279 

From Lubke's " History of Art." Mentioned on pages 158, 276, 287. 

165. Tins — Statue from the Louvre 282 

From Miiller's " Denkmaler der Alten Kunst. "Mentioned page 281. 

166. The Dying Galatian (or Gladiator) 283 

From Well's " New Physiognomy. Mentioned on pages 282, 283. 

167. Treatment of Design in Relief, by W.- Crane . . . 293 

From Cassell's Magazine of Art. Mentioned on pages 44, 46, 294, 307. 

168. Effects of Distance on Magnitude, Light, Contrast, 

and Detail 297 

From J. W. Stimson's " Principles and Methods in Art Education." 
Mentioned on pages 91, 206, 294, 296, 298, 304, 306, 308. 

169. Leaving for Work, by J. F. Millet 299 

From Cassell's Magazine of Art. Mentioned on pages 295, 300. 

170. Tomb of Giuliano de' Medici, with Figures of Night and 

Day, by Angelo 301 

From Lubke's " History of Art." Mentioned on pages 50, 301, 302. 

171. Rock Tomb at Myra in Lycia 315 

From the same. Mentioned on pages 315, 316, 375, 376, 387, 397, 403, 407. 

172. Cave of Elephanta, India 317 

From the same. Mentioned on pages 315, 316, 375, 376, 389, 407. 

173. Development of Architectural Features .... 319 

From Fergusson's " History of Architecture." Mentioned on pages 52, 
318, 319, 323, 343, 344, 360, 380. 

174. Houses at Morlaix, France 324 

From Cassell's " A Ramble Around France." Mentioned on page 323. 

175. The Starschina's House, Eastern Russia .... 325 

From Cassell's " All the Russias." Mentioned on pages 323, 358, 403, 408. 

176. Valmarina Palace, Vicenza, Italy 326 

From Fergusson's " History of Modern Architecture." Mentioned on 
pages 324, 348, 358, 380. 

177. Exeter Hall 3 2 7 

From a photograph of a drawing by H. A. Harris. Mentioned on pages 
326, 330, 336. 

178. An American Church 3 28 

From Fergusson's " History of Modern Architecture." Mentioned on 
pages 327, 330, 355. 

179. Main Building, University of Pennsylvania . . . 329 

From Cassell's " The World, Its Cities and Peoples." Mentioned on 
pages 327, 331, 355,37'- 



XXXI 1 ILL US TRA TIONS. 



PAGE 

180. High School Tower 330 

From a photograph of a drawing. Mentioned on pages 327, 330. 

181. Support of a Church Roof 331 

From a photograph of a drawing. Mentioned on pages 329, 330. 

182. Decoration of a Church Ceiling 332 

From Fergusson's " History of Architecture." Mentioned on page 330. 

183. Normal School, Christcherd, New Zealand . . . 333 

From Cassell's " Picturesque Australia." Mentioned on pages 331, 332, 
355, 358, 359- 

184. Elevation of Proposed Albany Cathedral — Richardson, 335 

From the New England Magazine. Mentioned on pages 334, 378, 380. 

185. Cottage at Chiddingfold, England 338 

From R. Nevill's " Old Cottage and Domestic Architecture." Mentioned 
on pages 54, 337, 339, 358. 

186. Cottage at Sandhills, England 339 

From the same. Mentioned on page 338. 

187. Cottage at Tuesley, England 340 

From the same. Mentioned on pages 323, 339, 358. 

188. Inn at Chiddingfold, England 341 

From the same. Mentioned on pages 340, 358, 359. 

189. Unsted Farm, England 342 

From the same. Mentioned on pages 323, 341, 358. 

190. Marien Platz, Munich 343 

From Cassell's " Chats About Germany." Mentioned on pages 54, 344, 
360, 380. 

191. Unter den Linden, Berlin 344 

From the same. Mentioned on pages 344, 360, 364. 

92. Boulevard, St. Michael, Paris . 345 

From Cassell's " Paris." Mentioned on pages 84, 344, 363, 364, 370, 380. 

193. Street and Belfry at Ghent 346 

From Cassell's " The World, Its Cities and Peoples." Mentioned on 
pages 344, 362, 380. 

194. Strozzi Palace, Florence . . . . . . . 347 

From Lubke's " History of Art." Mentioned on pages 346, 347, 359, 360. 

195. Chenonceau Chateau, France ...... 348 

From the same. Mentioned on pages 346, 347, 352, 378. 

196. Pavilion of Richelieu, Louvre, Paris .... 349 

From Cassell's " The World, its Cities and Peoples." Mentioned on 
pages 52, 348, 358, 359, 380. 

197. Queen's College, Galway ....... 350 

From Cassell's " Our Own Country." Mentioned on pages 84, 349, 355, 
359, 360, 380. 

198. University at Sydney, Australia ..... 351 

From Cassell's " Picturesque Australia." Mentioned on pages 84, 324, 
349, 352, 355, 359, 360, 362, 3 6 9, 380. 



ILLUSTRATIONS. XXXlil 



PAGE 

199. Schiller Platz, Berlin ....... 354 

From CasselPs " Chats About Germany." Mentioned on pages 354, 357, 
380. 

200. Mediaeval Castle 360 

From Cassell's " Land of Temples." Mentioned on page 360. 

201. Madison Avenue, New York 361 

From Munsey's Magazine. Mentioned on pages 334, 360, 364, 380. 

202. Trinity School, New York 363 

From a photograph. Mentioned on pages 323, 362, 369. 

203. Court of Honor, Columbian Exhibition, Chicago . . 365 

From the Cosmopolitan Magazine. Mentioned on pages 84, 363, 364, 380. 

204. Walker Museum, Chicago University .... 367 

From the same. Mentioned on pages 369, 380. 

205. Ryerson Physical Laboratory, Chicago University . 368 

From the same. Mentioned on pages 369, 380. 

206. Public Schools, Oxford, England 369 

From a photograph of an engraving. Mentioned on pages 360, 369, 380. 

207. Bedford Building, Boston 370 

From the New England Magazine. Mentioned on pages 323, 371, 380. 

208. Chiefs' Houses, Kerepuna, Australia .... 374 

From Cassell's " Picturesque Australia." Mentioned on pages 80, 375, 
376, 386, 397. 

209. Restoration of the West End of the Acropolis, Athens, 375 

From White's " Plutarch." Mentioned on pages 376, 380, 386, 387, 397, 407. 

210. Tent of Eastern Asia 376 

From Cassell's "Across Thibet." Mentioned on pages 376, 386. 

211. Winter Palace, Pekin 377 

From Fergusson's " History of Indian and Eastern Architecture." Men- 
tioned on pages 358, 376, 380, 386. 

212. Hottentot Krall ........ 379 

From Cassell's " The World, its Cities and its Peoples." Mentioned on 
pages 80, 377, 384. 

213. Kaffir Station, Africa 381 

From Cassell's " Races of Mankind." Mentioned on pages 377, 378, 384. 

214. Negro Huts, Kourounding Koto, Soudan . . . 383 

From Cassell's " The World, its Cities and its Peoples." Mentioned on 
pages 80, 378, 384. 

215. Greek Doric Temple of ^Egina 387 

From Fergusson's " History of Architecture." Mentioned on pages 380, 
389. 396- 

216. Greek Ionic Order . 388 

From Cassell's " Manual of Greek Archaeology." Mentioned on pages 
380, 389. 

217. Antefix of Marble from Temple of /Egina . . . 389 

From the same. Mentioned on pages 389, 398. 

218. Doorway of Troitzka Monastery, Russia .... 390 

From Fergusson's " History of Architecture." Mentioned on pages 380, 
388, 390. 



XXXIV 



ILL USTRA TIONS. 



PAGE 

219. Interior of San Vitale, Ravenna ..... 391 

From the same. Mentioned on pages 380, 390. 

220. Choir of Ely Cathedral, England . 392 

From the same. Mentioned on pages 78, 380, 390, 405. 

221. Portal at Persepolis, Persia ...... 393 

From photograph of an Engraving. Mentioned on pages 393, 398. 

222. ACROTERIUM AND GUTTER, TEMPLE OF yEgINA . . . 393 

From Cassell's " Manual of Greek Archaeology." Mentioned on pages 
389, 393, 398. 

223. Egyptian Hieraco Sphinx 393 

From C. E. Clement's " Outline History of Sculpture." Mentioned on 
pages 393, 398. 

224. Gargoyle from Cologne Cathedral 394 

Photograph from an engraving. Mentioned on pages 393, 394, 398. 

225. Capital from a Tomb at Persepolis, Persia . . . 394 

Photograph from an engraving. Mentioned on pages 394, 398. 

226. Greek Corinthian Capital • 394 

From Cassell's " Manual of Greek Archaeology." Mentioned on pages 
380, 387, 396. 

227. Temple at Ipsambool, Egypt 394 

Photograph from an engraving. Mentioned on pages 396, 398. 

228. Capital at Denderah, Egypt 395 

From Lubke's " History of Art." Mentioned on pages 396, 398. 

229. Giants from Temple of Agrigentum 395 

From Mitchell's " History of Sculpture." Mentioned on pages 396, 398. 

230. Capital from Cathedral at Rheims 395 

From Fergusson's " History of Architecture." Mentioned on pages 390, 
396, 398. 

231. Corbel from Cathedral at Rheims 396 

From the same. Mentioned on pages 38, 390, 396, 398. 

232. Temple at Buddha Gaya, India 400 

From Fergusson's " Indian and Eastern Architecture." Mentioned on 
pages 380, 399. 

233. Temple at Mukteswara, India 401 

From the same. Mentioned on pages 380, 399. 

234. Aisle of Henry VII. 's Chapel, Westminster Abbey, 

England . . . . 404 

From Fergusson's " History of Architecture." Mentioned on pages 380, 
403, 405. 



The author wishes to express his sense of obligation to the various artists, 
authors, and publishers, to whom he is indebted for kind permission to insert 
in this book such illustrations as are owned by them, or protected by their 
copyrights, especially to Messrs. Dodd, Mead & Co., Fowler & Wells, 
Charles Scribners' Sons, and F. A. Stokes & Co. of New York, Cassell & Co. 
and John Murray of London, and Ebner & Seubert of Stuttgart. 



PAINTING, SCULPTURE, AND ARCHITECTURE 
AS REPRESENTATIVE ARTS 



PAINTING, SCULPTURE, AND ARCHI- 
TECTURE AS REPRESENTATIVE ARTS. 



CHAPTER I. 

CORRESPONDENCES BETWEEN THE PRINCIPLES OF REPRE- 
SENTATION IN THE ARTS OF SOUND AND OF SIGHT. 

The Higher Arts as All Representative — Of Mental Processes — Of Mate- 
rial Phenomena — The Principle of Correspondence by Way of Asso- 
ciation and Comparison, as Applied to Language — Representation by 
Instinctive Exclamations — By Reflective Imitative Sounds — Poetry and 
Music as Developed from these Two Methods — Correspondences by 
Way of Association and Comparison in the Arts of Sight — Differences 
in the Ways in which the Two are Recognized and Used — The Instinc- 
tive and Reflective Tendencies as Respectively Manifested in Painting, 
Sculpture, and Architecture — The Emotive as a Combination of Both 
Tendencies — Illustrated by Facts. 

T N the volume of this series of essays entitled " Art in 
Theory," an endeavor was made to show that art in 
general is nature made human, and that art of the highest 
character is nature made human in the highest sense. 
It was pointed out that, for this kind of art, only such 
forms of nature are available as are audible and visible ; 
and that these forms in such art are well used only when 
made significant of thoughts and emotions. In accord- 
ance with this understanding, it was maintained that all 
the higher arts are representative, and this in two senses, 



2 PAINTING, SCULPTURE, AND ARCHITECTURE. 

— representative rather than communicative of thought or 
emotion in the mind of the artist (pages 47 to 61), which 
fact causes them to be appropriately termed the humani- 
ties ; and representative rather than imitative of that 
which is audible or visible in the mind's material environ- 
ment (pages 34 to 46), which latter fact causes them to 
be appropriately termed the arts of form, i. e., of appear- 
ance (page 9), or aesthetic, i. e., fitted to be perceived 
(page 102). 

As justifying the first sense in which the term is used, 
the reader was reminded that, as thoughts and emotions 
cannot be heard or seen in themselves, they cannot be 
presented or communicated to our fellows directly. They 
must be represented indirectly ; i. e., through the use of a 
medium differing from themselves in that it can be heard 
and seen. This medium the mind must find in material 
nature, the sounds and sights of which it can accept, imi- 
tate, modify, and develop for the purposes of expression, 
but cannot originate (pages 3 to 5). While saying this, 
however, it was also said that, among the sounds of 
nature which may be used for artistic purposes must 
be included any sounds whatever, even though trace- 
able to men. Their material bodies are manifestations of 
material nature ; and, this being so, of course the same 
is true of their instinctively used, and what we may 
term natural, as distinguished from artistic, vocal utter- 
ances. Among the sights of nature, again, must be 
included, for the same reason, any visible movements 
or constructions of men ; and, this being so, of course 
included among them must be also their instinctively used 
gestures. Owing to the imperceptible character of that 
which is within our minds, all outward expressions of 
this, and, therefore, all art, even of the most ordinary 



CORRESPONDENCES BETWEEN THE PRINCIPLES. 3 

kind, must exemplify the principle of representation. 
But the highest art must do so most emphatically. This 
is because it must give expression to processes of thought 
and emotion of the highest, in the sense of the most subtle, 
quality, and as these processes are the most distinctively 
mental, they are the most distinctively different in essence 
from any material form through which they can be ex- 
pressed. It is, therefore, particularly necessary that when 
used as a vehicle for them the form should manifest this 
difference ; and it can do so in the degree only in which 
it manifests clearly what is its own nature as contrasted 
with theirs ; in other words, in the degree only in which 
its representative, as contrasted with any possibly presen- 
tative character, is particularly emphasized by being made 
particularly apparent. 

This statement suggests that there is a connection be- 
tween the use in art of the term representation, as mean- 
ing the expression of thought and emotion, and its more 
ordinary use in the second sense mentioned in our opening 
paragraph, i. e., as meaning the imitation of external 
phenomena. This connection arises from the fact that 
the communicative intention of the forms of expression 
can be made particularly apparent in the degree only in 
which the imitative character of the factors composing 
the forms — that is of the sounds and sights of external 
nature — is made apparent. This is the ground taken in 
Chapters VI. and VIII. of "Art in Theory," which are 
devoted to showing that the representation of thoughts 
and emotions and of external sounds and sights necessarily 
go together. An artificially shaped machine, it was said, 
at once suggests the question, "What can it do?" But 
a drawing or carving with a form resembling something 
in nature never suggests this question, but rather, " What 



4 PAINTING, SCULPTURE, AND ARCHITECTURE. 

did the man who drew the object think about it or of it 
that he should have made a copy it ? " 

The principle that renders it possible for the forms of 
art to represent, in the senses just indicated, both mental 
processes and material surroundings is, in general, that of 
correspondence. But, subordinately, there are two different, 
though closely related, principles in accordance with 
which this correspondence maybe manifested. One prin- 
ciple — which is the one mainly involved in the representa- 
tion of thoughts and emotions — is that of association ; 
the other, which is mainly involved in the representation 
of the appearances of nature, is that of comparison. For 
instance, to refer briefly to what will show the bearings 
of our present discussion upon the whole subject of art, it 
was said, when speaking, in " Poetry as a Representative 
Art," of the rise of language and it's subsequent develop- 
ments in poetry, that the earliest sounds made by a babe 
are instinctive, by which is meant, as explained there, that 
they are allied in nature to expressions of instinct, due, 
even in a rational being, to the operation less of conscious 
rationality than of natural forces vitalizing all sentient 
existence. These instinctive sounds, it was said, seem to 
be accepted as words in fulfilment, mainly, of the principle 
of association. The child cries and crows while the 
mother hums and chuckles, and both understand each 
other. They communicate through what may be termed 
ejaculations or interjections. This kind of language is 
little above the level of that of the brutes ; in fact, it is of 
the same nature as theirs. The sounds seem to have a 
purely muscular or nervous origin ; and for this reason 
may be supposed to have no necessary connection with 
any particular thought or psychic state intended to be 
expressed by them. Nevertheless, we all understand the 



CORRESPONDENCES BETWEEN THE PRINCIPLES. 5 

meanings of them when produced by the lower animals, 
as well as when made by man. Everywhere, certain ejacu- 
lations are recognized to be expressive of the general tenor 
of certain feelings, as of pleasure and pain, desire and 
aversion, surprise and fright. This fact shows that there 
is a true sense in which these utterances are representative. 
" However merely animal in their nature the earliest ex- 
clamations may have been," says Farrar, in his " Lan- 
guage and Languages," " they were probably the very first 
to acquire the dignity and significance of reasonable 
speech, because in their case, more naturally than in any 
other, the mere repetition of the sound would, by the 
association of ideas, involuntarily recall the sensation of 
which the sound was so energetic and instantaneous an 
exponent. In the discovery of this simple law, which a 
very few instances would reveal to the mind of man, lay 
the discovery of the Idea of Speech. The divine secret 
of language — the secret of the possibility of perfectly ex- 
pressing the unseen and immaterial by an articulation of 
air which seemed to have no analogy with it — the secret 
of accepting sounds as the exponents and signs of every- 
thing in the ' choir of heaven and furniture of earth ' — lay 
completely revealed in the use of two or three despised 
interjections. To borrow a simile from the eloquent 
pages of Herder, they were the sparks of Promethean fire 
which kindled language into life." 

The principle of association in connection with the use 
of natural exclamations, accounts probably for the origin 
not only of actual interjections, but of other sounds also, 
like the sibilants, aspirates, and gutturals, giving their 
peculiar qualities to the meanings of syllables like those 
in hush, hist, and kick. Some, too, think that it accounts 
for the origin of words like is, me, and that, cognate with 



6 PAINTING, SCULPTURE, AND ARCHITECTURE. 

the Sanskrit, as, ma, and ta ; the first meaning to breathe, 
and indicating the act of breathing ; the second closing 
the lips to shut off outside influence, and thus to refer to 
self ; and the third opening the lips to refer to others. In 
the same way, too, because the organs of speech are so 
formed that the earliest articulated sound made by a babe 
is usually either mama ox papa, and the earliest persons to 
whom each is addressed are the mother and father, 
people of many different races have come to associate 
mama, which, as a rule, is uttered first, with an appeal to 
the mother, and papa with an appeal to the father. 

In order, however, that utterances springing from ex- 
clamations may be used in language, it is evident that 
men must begin to imitate them, which they can do as a 
result only of comparison. This principle, therefore, as 
well as that of association, must have been closely con- 
nected with the formation of the earliest words. Ejacula- 
tions, as has been said, are instinctive. As such, they 
come first in the order of time. The imitations of them 
with the purpose of making them accepted as words do 
not appear till the reflective 1 nature begins to assert itself 
and then they soon extend to the reproduction of other 
sounds besides ejaculations — sounds that are representa- 
tive of natural effects external to man, and that become 
accepted as words as a still more immediate result of com- 
parison. These latter sounds are first heard when the child 
is led to notice external objects. Then, unlike the animal 
which can only ejaculate, but just like his reputed father 
Adam, the first who had a reflective nature, he begins to 
give names to these objects, or to have names given to 
them for him by others. These names, according to the 
methods controlling the formation of nursery language, 
are always based upon the principle of imitation. Certain 

1 See page 127. 



CORRESPONDENCES .BETWEEN THE PRINCIPLES. 7 

noises emanating from the objects designated, the chick- 
cJiick of the fowl, the tick-tick of the watch, the cuckoo of 
the bird over the clock, the bow-wow of the dog, and, 
later, the clatter of the rattle, or the rustle of the silk or 
satin, are imitated in the names applied to them ; and 
this imitative element enables the child to recognize what 
the object is to which each name refers. The existence 
of hundreds of terms in all languages, the sounds of which 
are significant of their sense, like buzz, hiss, crash, slam, 
bang, whine, howl, roar, bellow, whistle, prattle, tivitter, 
gabble, and gurgle (many of which are of comparatively 
recent origin), is a proof that the principle of imitation is 
an important factor in the formation of words. " Through 
all the stages of growth of language," says Whitney in his 
" Language and the Science of Language," " absolutely 
new words are produced by this method more than by 
any other.' 

In the essay in which these facts with reference to the 
origin of language are brought out, the ground is taken that 
poetry, as an artistic development of language, is an artistic 
development of these elementary principles of representa- 
tion through association and comparison, and, one by one, 
all the different characteristic features of poetic form are 
traced to them. Similar ground is taken in the essay 
entitled " Music as a Representative Art." In that, it is 
shown that the sounds of the voice in speech, their move- 
ments, for instance, whether slow or fast, as when indicat- 
ing important or unimportant statements, or upward or 
downward, as when questioning or asserting, are neces- 
sarily suggested whenever corresponding movements are 
heard in musical motives, and that, therefore, in such 
cases, these motives may be rightly termed representative 
by way of association. It is shown, too, that other musi- 



8 PAINTING, SCUIPTURE, AND ARCHITECTURE. 

cal movements, like those resembling the rhythm of 
horses' feet when galloping, or the variations and trills of 
a bird when singing, are directly imitative, and, therefore, 
representative by way of comparison. 

The present essay is designed to show that correspond- 
ences of the same general character underlie representa- 
tion in painting, sculpture, and architecture, which in 
these arts also are manifested by way both of association 
and of comparison. Association and comparison, how- 
ever, as has been pointed out in former essays of this series, 
are in all cases very closely allied, and sometimes are 
practically inseparable. Association is based upon sug- 
gested likeness in the underlying principle exemplified in 
two things which are apparently different. Comparison 
is based upon apparent likeness in the things themselves. 
Whether, as a fact, we connect them by way of associa- 
tion or of comparison, depends partly upon our point of 
view, and partly upon the degree of external similarity 
between them. Sometimes we associate things that are 
different in specific details, because they are connected 
with some identical general effect. Thus we associate 
the moon and the stars, because both are connected 
with the general effect of the night-time ; or hens and 
turkeys, because both are connected with the general 
effect of a barn-yard. Yet while this is true, observe 
also that, in case we be thinking of the heavenly 
bodies, we can also compare the moon and stars, because, 
from that point of view, we can find many regards in 
which in specific details the two are alike, and so, in case 
we be thinking of fowls, we can compare hens and tur- 
keys. Again, in case a Greek column supporting a heavy 
entablature be perceived to be like a Gothic column 
supporting a heavy arch, in one regard alone, namely, in 



CORRESPONDENCES BETWEEN THE PRINCIPLES. 9 

being large in size, then we can say that the one column 
suggests the other by way of association. But in case the 
Greek column be perceived to be like another Greek 
column in most regards or in many regards, then we can 
say that the one definitely recalls the other by way of 
comparison. Moreover, in case we have learned that the 
Greek column is large in order to hold up a heavyweight, 
then we can infer that the Gothic column is large in order 
to do the same thing ; and we may say that the latter, by 
way of association, represents the same general idea, or 
conception, of strength in support which we have origi- 
nally derived from the former. But if the latter column 
as well as the former be Greek, that is, if both columns 
manifest the same details of appearance, then we may say 
that the latter not only represents the same idea or con- 
ception of strength in support as does the former, but 
that it does this by way of comparisojt as well as of asso- 
ciation. 

There is a difference also, though this too is not always 
clearly distinguishable, between the ways in which the 
mind recognizes and gives expression in art to associative 
and comparative representation. In that which is asso- 
ciative, its action is usually instinctive. It recognizes the 
resemblance through an exercise of imagination, and indi- 
cates it to others by way of suggestion. The likeness is 
not proved logically, and it cannot be, because objects 
manifesting it reveal as many differences which mis- 
represent as resemblances which do the opposite. In 
comparative representation, on the contrary, the 
action of the mind is usually reflective. The likeness 
between factors is recognized because it is susceptible 
of proof, and the artistic use of them being the 
result of well considered imitation is conditioned upon 



IO PAINTING, SCULPTURE, AND ARCHITECTURE. 

resemblances in all their essential features. Notice, 
nevertheless, that, as a rule, any visible object which 
can be used for artistic purposes is, to a certain extent, 
representative in both the ways that we. have been 
considering. When representative chiefly by way of asso- 
ciation, as the moon of the stars, or the hens of the tur- 
keys, it, at the same time, manifests partial resemblances 
that can be compared ; and when representative chiefly by 
way of comparison, it still manifests partial characteristics 
that can be associated. If this be true, then it must be 
true also that the action of the mind in recognizing and 
using the principle of representation must to an extent be 
both instinctive and reflective. 

In " Art in Theory," it is stated that by instinctive mental 
processes are meant those which are conducted according 
to unconscious methods, and are analogous, for this reason, 
to the results of the promptings of instinct in the lower 
animals. It is in this instinctive way that the child utters 
ejaculations, to which, as shown on page 4, certain of 
our words owe their origin, and it is in the same way that 
melodies and verses are sometimes composed, singing 
themselves into existence, the musician or poet hardly 
knowing how or whence they come. In the same way, 
too, children and the uncultivated gesture, and even draw 
and carve and build, the action of mind in the elementary 
processes of these arts not being essentially different from 
that in which the bees or birds or beasts construct their 
honeycombs or nests or dens. But poetry and music deal 
also with words, notes, and phrases, originated with a clear 
reflective consciousness of surrounding phenomena with 
which, by way of imitation or description, the sounds used 
in the arts are made to compare. It is the same in the arts 
of sight. What is there constructed by an animal showing 



COPXESPOXDEA T CES BETWEEN THE PRINCIPLES. II 

thought and discrimination, — and, in this sense, reflection 
with reference to surrounding appearances — of the same 
quality as that which characterizes the forms used in 
painting, sculpture, and architecture? It is owing, more 
than to anything else, to this reflective action of the mind, 
working according to the calculating methods of reason 
that, even though general conceptions of paintings, statues, 
or buildings may result from sudden and instinctive inspi- 
rations, all of them, if works of art, are, as a rule, produced 
slowly, and with a clear conception of the reason for the 
introduction of each detail. 

It may be said, therefore, that all art involves more or 
less both of the instinctive and also of the reflective action 
of the mind. But it was shown on page 233 of "Art in 
Theory," that it is when the results of reflection are added 
to those of instinct, or of instinct to those of reflection ; 
when, therefore, neither one of these elements alone is 
present, but both together, — it is then that we have in 
the product an illustration of what, in distinction from 
either instinctive or reflective, we may term an emotive in- 
fluence. A man, for instance, may eat and sleep like an 
animal, instinctively, or he may think and talk reflectively, 
without giving any expression to what we mean by emo- 
tion. But as soon as he thinks and talks so as to give 
expression to his ideas with reference to eating and sleep- 
ing, as is the case with a caterer or upholsterer, an hotel 
keeper or a house-wife ; or as soon as his natural physical 
instincts prompt and accentuate his thinking and talk- 
ing, as is the case with an actor or a good story-teller, 
then, as a result of instinct made thoughtful, or of thought 
made instinctive, he begins to manifest his emotive na- 
ture; and the character of his emotion is represented by 
the degree in which the one or the other of the two ten- 



12 PAINTING, SCULPTURE, AND ARCHITECTURE. 

dencies — instinct or thought — is in excess. It may be in- 
teresting to point out also that, acccording to ordinary 
conceptions, the power which blends or balances the in- 
stinctive or physical and the reflective or mental, is the 
soul, holding body and mind together, influencing and 
influenced by both ; and also that, according to ordinary 
conceptions, it is the same thing to put emotio7i into an 
expression and to put soul into it. Neither can be mani- 
fested in it unless it represent a blended result both of 
nerve and of thought, of instinct and of reflection. See 
the note at the foot of page 14 of " Poetry as a Represen- 
tative Art." 

Accordingly we find that the very same condition which 
causes a product of the arts of sight to represent both 
mental processes (by way of instinctive association as in- 
dicated on page 4) and natural surroundings (by way of 
reflective comparison or imitation, as indicated on page 4), 
causes it to be expressive of that which all acknowledge to 
be of such great importance in art, namely, emotion. This, 
which is an evident logical conclusion from what has been 
said, corresponds also to the testimony of facts. For in- 
stance, a picture of a child represents by way of association 
any child, and therefore causes a mother, upon seeing it, 
to recall instinctively her own child, and, doing so, to take 
an interest in it. But in the degree in which the picture, 
besides this, represents her child by way of comparison — 
in the degree in which agreement in each detail of sex, 
age, size, dress, and countenance satisfies her critical re- 
flective powers, in this degree will the interest awakened 
in her pass into emotion. The same principle applies to 
scenery. Owing to their associations with some particu- 
lar lake or mountain, certain persons are instinctively in- 
terested in a painting of any lake or mountain. But the 



CORRESPONDENCES BETWEEN THE PRINCIPLES. 1 3 

distinctively emotional effects of the picture are always 
increased in the degree in which all the details, the more 
men reflect upon them, are perceived to resemble those 
of the particular lake or mountain with which they 
have associated it. So with sculpture and architecture. 
Because of the principle of association, certain persons 
cannot avoid an instinctive tribute of reverence when 
they enter any chapel and stand before the statue of 
any saint. But let the chapel or statue, either in its 
general form or in certain of its details — as of flowers, 
leaves, symbols, etc., — recall, distinctly, by way of com- 
parison, that particular chapel or personality with which 
they associate it, and their reverence will be the result of 
a deeper phase of emotion. Thus we find both logic and 
experience confirming from a new point of view what was 
said in " Art in Theory " with reference to the importance 
in high art of having the art-form represent both mental 
conceptions — to represent which alone it would need 
merely to suggest a certain association of ideas, and 
also audible or visible material phenomena — to represent 
which alone, it would need merely to manifest imitation. 



CHAPTER II. 

CORRESPONDENCES BETWEEN THE FACTORS OF REPRE- 
SENTATION IN THE ARTS OF SOUND AND OF SIGHT. 

Factors of Visible Representation to be Considered Separately and as Com- 
bined — Duration, Time, and Pauses in Sounds Correlated to Extension, 
Size, and Outlines in Shapes — Force, Gradation, and Regularity among 
Sounds Correlated to Similar Effects in Shapes — Measures, Rhythm, 
and Accent Correlated to Measurements, Proportion, and Shading — 
Pitch and Quality of Sound Correlated to Effects of Color — Effects of 
Accent on the Pitch of Tones Correlated to that of Shading upon Color 
— Each Factor of Visible Effect Representative — Instinctive, Reflec- 
tive, and Emotive Representation Illustrated as Applied to Extension 
or Size — As Applied to Shading and Color. 

T N order to accomplish the end that we have in view, 
let us begin, in conformity with what was done in 
the essays treating of representation in poetry and in 
music, by analyzing the various factors of expression 
common to all art-products that appeal to the eye, and by 
determining, if we can, what each factor, when consid- 
ered by itself, is fitted to represent. If, as a result, we 
find that it is possible to determine this, then we shall 
evidently have a right to conclude that it is possible to 
determine the meanings of all the factors when appear- 
ing together, for, thus combined, they must be capable, 
like the letters of a symbolic alphabet, of representing 
mental processes or material surroundings of a more 
complex character. 

14 



CORRESPONDENCES BETWEEN THE FACTORS. I 5 

What then are the factors of expression in painting, 
sculpture, and architecture ? The first mentioned, when 
speaking of the arts of sound, was time or duration. Cor- 
responding to this, we notice, as the first here, space or 
extension. As time in music and poetry is divided into 
syllables or notes, each of a certain duration, so in painting, 
sculpture, and architecture, space is divided into shapes, 
each of a certain size. Different sounds are distinguished 
from those surrounding them by cessations or changes in 
the character of the tone, but, conventionally, the changes 
as well as the cessations are termed pauses. Different 
shapes are distinguished by vacancies or changes in the 
appearance of surfaces, but the former as well as the lat- 
ter are indicated by outlines. 

Sounds again, as used by poets and musicians, are ap- 
parently distinguished from one another by different de- 
grees of force expended either by the voice or upon instru- 
ments in producing them. So, correspondingly, different 
shapes, as used by painters, sculptors, or architects, are 
apparently distinguished by different degrees of force 
exerted in handling the pencil, brush, chisel, mallet, or 
whatever it may have been, with which they have been 
produced. To the arts of sight, the term force is not 
often applied, but characteristics like vigorous and ener- 
getic are frequently ascribed to a source analogous in 
conception, termed stroke or touch, when reference is made 
to painting ; and handling, when reference is made to paint- 
ing, sculpture, or architecture. The methods of using 
force in the production of sound may differ, as indicated 
in Chapter VI. of " Poetry as a Representative Art," in 
degrees of strength, of gradation, and of regularity. Dif- 
ferences in degrees of strength cause sounds to be loud or 
soft. Differences in gradation, by which is meant the way 



1 6 PAINTING, SCULPTURE, AND ARCHITECTURE, 

in which one sound is made to pass into another, are of 
three general kinds. The first causes the utterance to be- 
gin loud and end soft, as in initial elocutionary stress ; the 
second causes it to begin soft and end loud, as in terminal 
stress ; the third causes it either to begin soft, gradually 
swell louder, and then sink to soft again, as in median 
stress, or — what in consecutive discourse produces the 
same general effect — to begin loud, gradually sink softer, 
and then swell to loud again, as in compound str -ess. 1 These 
three kinds of gradation, when applied in connection with 
accent, not to single syllables but, without regarding divi- 
sions between words, to double syllables (as in do it), or to 
triple syllables (as in misery), or to more syllables (as in 
inseparably), cause poetic, and, as developed from them, 
musical measures. Finally, differences in regularity cause 
consecutive effects that are repetitious, or the reverse, of 
the same degrees or gradations of force. That is to say, 
they cause an even, uninterrupted flow of sound, or, at 
least, regularly intermittent changes in it ; or, otherwise, 
they cause an uneven, interrupted flow of sounds, with 
irregular and abrupt changes. Exactly analogous differ- 
ences are distinguishable in the results of touch or hand- 
ling, however we may term it, in the arts of sight. Viewed 
only with reference to apparent effects, which are all that 
we are now considering, differences in degrees of what is 
variously called strength, vigor, energy, cause the factors 
of delineation, whether produced by pencil, brush, chisel, 
or arrangements of masonry, to appear to be strong or 
weak, broad or narrow, coarse or fine, firm or faint, dis- 

1 Of the other two forms of stress used in elocution, thorough, in which the 
tone is said to continue the same throughout, is practically an absence of 
gradation, and tremulous stress in which the voice keeps up a constant 
waver, is an intermittent phase of the same. 



CORRESPONDENCES BETWEEN THE FACTORS. I? 

tinct or vague. Differences in gradation cause a shape to 
be outlined either gradually, as in curves, abruptly, as in 
angles, or both gradually and abruptly, as where curves 
and angles are used together. Differences in regularity 
cause repetitions, or the opposite, of similar outlines, 
which, if present, produce an impression of like widths, 
lengths, directions, and gradations — an impression invari- 
ably accompanying such artistic effects as those with 
which we are all familiar under the names of parallelism, 
balance, and symmetry. 

Important to notice, too, is the fact that, as among 
sounds, the differences in the gradations with which syl- 
lables and notes pass into one another are developed into 
measures, and the measures, taken together, determine the 
effects of rhythm ; so among shapes the differences in the 
gradations with which the factors of delineation pass into 
one another are developed into what we all understand by 
the term measurements, and the measurements, taken to- 
gether, determine the effects of proportion. Moreover, as 
in the arts of sound, an alternation of loud with soft force 
in each measure determines its general character, and, 
through this, the character of the rhythm ; so exactly 
analogous contrasts, with an exactly analogous effect upon 
measurements and proportion are produced among the 
factors of delineation in the arts of sight. That which 
produces this effect among sounds is termed accent, that 
which produces it among sights is termed shading, or 
light and shade, or chiaroscuro. Without the aid of this 
latter, it would be as impossible to indicate in painting 
whether a surface were intended to seem flat or round or 
pointed, as without accent to distinguish the meaning in 
the word conjure from that in conjure. In other words, 
shading emphasises in the arts of sight just as accent does 



1 8 PAINTING, SCULPTURE, AND ARCHITECTURE, 

in the arts of sound. See Fig. 16, page 41; Fig. 17, page 
43; and Fig. 18, page 45. 

Again, in the volumes treating of poetry and of music, 
we found sounds distinguished from one another not only 
by duration and force, including gradat ion and regularity, 
but also by pitch and quality. So shapes, besides differ- 
ing as to the spaces filled by them, and as to the strength, 
gradation, and regularity of the elements of their factors 
of delineation, differ also in what, for reasons to be given 
in Chapter XI., may be termed the pitch and quality of 
their coloring. 

Notice, also, that, just as accent necessarily determines 
the relative pitch of consecutive syllables, and, therefore, 
the tunes of verse ; and, so far as it determines these, 
determines also the melody (see " Poetry as a Representa- 
tive Art," Chapters VIII. to X.), so light and shade have 
an analogous influence upon what is here termed the pitch 
of the colors. We may use light and shade without 
color ; but, if we are using color we must, in art at least, 
use them also. Once more, in the arts of sound the com- 
bined effects of accent, pitch, and quality, taken together, 
cause tone. The same word, though, as technically ap- 
plied, it has a narrower meaning, is used to indicate the 
combined effects of shading, and the pitch and quality of 
color. These correspondences, as will be observed, hold 
good throughout. 

It will be observed also, as we go on, that each particu- 
lar effect in the elements of sight, as in those of sound, is 
representative ; and that it is so because of an application 
of the principle either of association or of comparison ; 
or, sometimes, as is frequently the case, of both of these 
together. To anticipate a little, as was done in Chapter 
III. of " Poetry as a Representative Art/' we shall find, 



CORRESPONDENCES BETWEEN THE FACTORS. 1 9 

as applied to the representation of mind — as distinguished 
from the representation of external phenomena, which, 
being mainly imitative, usually interprets itself — that the 
degree of extension or the size indicates what the artist 
conceives to be — and, therefore, uses to express — the 
degree of material and, in this sense, physical influence ; 
whereas the other effects indicate what he conceives to be 
— and, therefore, uses to express — the degree of mental 
influence. Of these effects, touch or handling, as mani- 
fested in the relative strength, gradation, or regularity of 
lines or their shading, naturally suggests the relative 
expenditure of will-power. Pitch, as manifested in the rela- 
tive brightness either of hues or of the light that is in 
them, naturally suggests the mental motive, a brilliant color 
attracting the attention and a dull color doing the oppo- 
site ; and quality, as manifested in the relative purity or 
mixture of hues, as in blues or reds as contrasted with 
grays or browns, naturally suggests the mental feeling. 
Thus we may say that extension measures, touch energizes, 
the degree of color aims, and the quality of color tempers 
the appearance ; that the first determines the scope of 
influence ; the second, the degree of executive force ; the 
third, of intellection ; and the fourth, of emotion or soul. 

There are phases of each effect, too, indicative, on the 
one hand, of a predominating pJiysical, and, as connected 
with this, instinctive tendency ; or, on the other hand, of 
a predominating mental, and, as connected with this, re- 
flective tendency ; besides which there is a combination of 
both tendencies in what, for reasons explained on page 1 1, 
may be termed emotive. For instance, extension, in the 
degree in which it is not divided into parts by outlines, 
and therefore conveys mainly the impression of bulk, 
causes us to think chiefly of the physical in the sense of 



20 PAINTING, SCULPTURE, AND ARCHITECTURE. 



7natcrial effect ; but if there be many parts, separated by 
many outlines, that need to be carefully observed and 
studied in order that each detail of shape may be per- 
ceived and understood, then it is the mental effect of 
which we chiefly think. With the thought of the physical 

effect comes, too, a suggestion 
of an instinctive action of the 
mind ; and with the mental 
effect a suggestion of a re- 
flective action. Thus huge 
stones in a doorway, or huge 
pillars in a porch having heavy 
masonry above them, are so 
evidently necessary in order 
to afford the needed physi- 
cal support, that it seems as if 
the builder must have chosen 
them instinctively rather than 
reflectively. But the light 
steel rods and bars in suspen- 
sion or cantilever bridges are 
so evidently indicative of the 
results of experiment and 
contrivance, that we cannot 
avoid the impression that 
they were determined upon 
as the result of reflection. 
Often, however, the heavy 
doorway or column may be so 




FIG. 1. 



-FARNESE HERCULES BY QLYCON 
THE ATHENIAN. 
See pages 21, 24, 26, 281. 

carefully carved, so minutely divided by outlines into all 
sorts of details of shape, that it suggests not only the 
physical but also the mental, not only the instinctive but 
also the reflective ; and it is then that, in accordance with 




CORRESPONDENCES BETWEEN THE FACTORS, 21 

what was said on page 1 1, we have that emotive manifes- 
tation universally attributed to that artistic development 
of the technicalities of building which we term architec- 
ture. Or consider another example. The human form, 
on account of the obvious blending in it of the physical 

and the mental, the instinc- jjg|j|jjj|jj|g m 

tive and the reflective, al- ■ 
ways conveys (see page 1 1 ■ 
again) some impression of §U ^3 
emotive effects. Yet ob- J| 
serve how much more the | 
purely physical effect pre- | 
dominates in the bulky | 4K 
limbs of the Hercules, Fig. g iSfeft 
i, page 20, than it does in ^ 
the slender limbs of the Kl 

Flying Mercury, Fig. ?., ___J 1 ■ 

page 21. Is it not true, J I, 

too, that the very shape of J| d 

the former suggests less ^ in- 

capacity for mental action ■ Jgfc 

than does that of the latter, _i>^|«= 

whose whole appearance k>>^/. . .^. c J |jp ■ ■ - 
suggests at once an em- FIG . 2 ._ FLy , NC , MERCURY> BY Q|0VANN| 
bodiment of energetic in- da bologna. 

tellio-ence ? See P a S es 2I > 2 5> 26 > 62 > 73, 135, 152. 

Again, we shall find that, as applied to touch or hand- 
ling, the physical and, in this sense, instinctive expression 
of will-power is chiefly conveyed through the degrees of 
strength manifested in the outlines ; that the purely mental 
and, in this sense, reflective expression of the same is 
chiefly conveyed through the use that is made of curves, 
angles, or combinations of them, while in those uses of 



22 PAINTING, SCULPTURE, AND ARCHITECTURE. 

degrees and gradations of outlines that lead to regularity 
or the lack of it, we find the possibilities of emotive ex- 
pression. Finally, as applied to the pitch and quality of 
color, we shall find that darker phases of it — as in those 
greens, blues, and grays which predominate in the natural 
world about us — are the colors that most naturally recall 
surrounding//^/^/ appearances, and, therefore, are the 
ones most likely to be used when trying to represent 
them ; and that the brighter hues, as in the reds, oranges, 
and yellows, indicative, as they usually are, notwith- 
standing their exceptional presence in flowers and autumn 
foliage, of things that a man has painted or dyed, are those 
most likely to suggest him, and, therefore a mental influ- 
ence ; while it is through an appropriate blending of the two 
extremes, i. e., through the use of great variety of color, 
that the most effective appeal is made to the emotions. 
It has been thought best to make these statements here by 
way of anticipation, in order to aid the reader in forming 
an intelligent conception of that toward which the more 
ample explanations of the discussion that is to follow are 
to be directed. 



CHAPTER III. 

REPRESENTATION BY MEANS OF EXTENSION OR SIZE. 

Representation in Art Based upon Methods of Expressing Thought and 
Emotion through the Use of the Human Body — Size as Representing 
Heaviness, Strength, Immovability, Substantiality, or the Opposite — 
As Representing the Important, Influential, Dignified, or the Opposite 
— The Representations of these Conceptions Made Consistent with the 
Representation of Actual External Appearances through the Laws of 
Perspective as Indicating Nearnesss — Differences between Require- 
ments of Representation in these Arts and in Music and Architecture — 
Similarity, Nevertheless, in the Methods of Representation — As Applied 
also to the Laws of Perspective — Recapitulation and Illustrations of these 
Methods as Applied to Size. 

PHE principles stated in the last chapter have now to 
be exemplified as manifested in each of the elemen- 
tary factors of visible representation. The first of these 
was said to be extension or size. As indicated in Chapter 
XX. of " Art in Theory," any of these factors have a 
meaning for a man because of the expressional uses which 
he himself makes or sees others make of analogous ones 
in his own body. Thus the sounds employed in poetry and 
music represent thought and emotion, because of what 
men know of the audible representation of the same 
through the utterances of the human voice; and in a simi- 
lar way things that are seen represent thought and emo- 
tion because of what men know of the visible repre- 
sentation of the same through the movements of the 
human muscles. 

23 



24 



PAINTING, SCULPTURE, AND ARCHITECTURE. 



To apply this to size, men have learned through their 
own experience in lifting, or from what they have seen of 
others' lifting, that a large object, one that fills a large 
amount of space, is, as a rule, heavier than small objects, 




FIQ. 3.— MELROSE ABBEY, SCOTLAND. 
See pages 25, 26, 32, 34, 204, 322, 3S0, 390. 

and can consequently bear a heavier weight or, as we say, is 
stronger. It is evident, therefore, that comparatively large 
limbs, like those of the Farnese Hercules, Fig. I, page 20, 



REPRESENTATION 'BY EXTENSION OR SIZE. 



25 



and large pillars like those of Melrose Abbey, Fig. 3, 
page 24, necessarily suggest, by way of association, such 
conceptions as heaviness, strength, immovability, or substan- 
tiality ; whereas comparatively slender limbs, like those of 




FIG. 4.— CHURCH NEAR KOSTROMA, RUSSIA. 

See pages 25, 26, 32, 34. 

the Flying Mercury, Fig. 2, page 21, or small pillars like 
those of the interior of the church near Kostroma, Fig. 
4, page 25, suggest, in the same way, a lack of weight and 
therefore such conceptions as lightness, weakness, mova- 



26 PAINTING, SULPTURE, AND ARCHITECTURE. 

bility, or unsubstantiality . No one would expect the 
Hercules to be able to fly, but he might expect this of the 
Mercury. The columns of Melrose Abbey would seem 
out of place unless the roof were very heavy ; and those 
of the church at Kostroma would be equally out of 
place unless the roof were very light. We cannot 
imagine any attempt to remove intact the former building 
from the place in which we find it ; but it is not impossi- 
ble to conceive of putting rollers under the latter and 
transporting it across the country. 

Just here it may be well to point out the confirmation 
afforded by. these facts of the view advanced in " Art in 
Theory," that beauty involves effects produced by sig- 
nificance as well as by form ; or, to quote the language 
there used, that " Beauty is a characteristic of any complex 
form of varied elements producing apprehensible unity (i. e., 
harmony or likeness) of effects upon the motive organs of 
sensation in the ear or eye, or upon the emotive sources 
of imagination in the mind ; or upon both the one and 
the other." Notice how true this is, as applied precisely 
where the opponents of this view would be most likely to 
say that it could not be applied i. e., to the human form. 
No possible conception of the mere effects of curves, 
straight lines, or angles could account for the lack of beauty 
which all feel to be characteristic of clumsy joints, as at 
the neck, wrists, and ankles ; or of fragile centres of force, 
as in the head, chest, and calves. The only way in which 
to account for these effects of size is to acknowledge 
that, by way of association, the former suggest a lack of 
agility and, therefore, of the possibilities of grace, and the 
latter a lack of brain, breath, or brawn, and, therefore, of 
the possibilities of strength. 

But to go back to the line of thought from which this 



REPRESENTATION BY EXTENSION OR SIZE. 



27 



is a digression, it may be said again that an object of large 
size, as contrasted with surrounding objects of small size, 
represents that which is important or influential. To 
recognize this fact, as well as another, which is that, ac- 
cording to the methods of expression in art as actually 
developed, the desire to represent mental conceptions sug- 




FIG. 5.— PIANKHI RECEIVING THE 3UBMISCI0N OF NAMRUT AND OTHERS. 
See pages 27, 50, 222. 




FIG. 6.— HERACLES, TRITON, AND NEREIDS FROM DORIC TEMPLE AT ASSOS. 
See pages 27, 222. 

gestively by way of association antedates the desire to 
represent imitatively the actual conditions of external 
appearances, notice the size of the king in Fig. 5, page 27, 
illustrating early Egyptian art ; also that of the Hercules 
in Fig. 6, page 27, illustrating early Greek art ; as well as in 
that of Henry II. in Fig. 7, page 29, illustrating the early 



28 PAINTING, SCULPTURE, AND ARCHITECTURE. 

art of the middle ages. The larger form in each of these 
figures clearly indicates, by way of association, the artist's 
idea of its relative importance and influence ; but it fails 
to indicate by way of comparison any condition that he 
could even have conceived it possible to imitate from 
actual appearances. Notice that it is mainly for this 
reason, too, that they are not examples of high art. 

As has been maintained throughout this series of 
essays, high art must represent both one's conceptions 
concerning forms, and the actual conditions in which the 
forms appear in nature. But how, it may be asked, can 
art by means of size represent one of many figures as 
being more important, and yet represent all of the figures 
as being of the same relative size as in nature ? How but 
precisely as was done in later Greek art, and is done in 
all our art of to-day ? — namely, by an application of the 
natural laws of perspective, i. e., by depicting the important 
figure or figures as being in the foreground of an art-pro- 
duct and the unimportant figures as being in the back- 
ground. This can produce the desired effect because, in 
addition to what has been indicated already, large size, as 
contrasted with small, indicates nearness. See Fig. 8, 
page 31, also Fig. 168, page 297. Accordingly, by carry- 
ing out the laws of perspective, the grouping, either in 
painting or sculpture, may be made to represent both the 
relations in the mind of the conceptions which are asso- 
ciated with the figures, and also the relations in nature of 
the appearances of the figures with which those of the 
art-product are made to compare. 

The fact of the representation both of mental processes 
and of material appearances is more difficult to recognize 
in architecture and music than in the other arts. This 
is because of the different mode of expression of which 




FIG. 7.— HENRY II. RECEIVES FROM GOD THE CROWN, HOLY LANCE, AND 
IMPERIAL SWORD. (From " Henry's Missal.") 



29 



See page 27. 



30 PAINTING, SCULPTURE, AND ARCHITECTURE. 

these other arts are developments. This mode is termed 
in " Art in Theory " responsive and unsu stained, which 
terms are intended to indicate that the forms are occa- 
sioned by an endeavor to respond to one and, afterwards, 
to another outside interruption, or, at least, emergency, 
as is exemplified when a cat moves about and mews, 
or when a bird flits from branch to branch and chirps, 
or when a man, gazing from one to another of his sur- 
roundings, refers frequently to what he hears here or 
sees there. If he do this by word, we have that which 
develops into poetry ; if by deed, that which develops 
into painting or sculpture. But, aside from this mode of 
expression, there is another which may be termed subjec- 
tive and sustained. In accordance with this, the cat keeps 
quiet and purrs, the bird stays on one branch and sings, 
and the man works and hums to himself, developing a 
plan or a melody from some single outside suggestion, 
without consciousness of interruption, — or not, at least, of 
anything like frequent interruption — in which other things 
are suggested. It is this subjective and sustained mood 
that is at the basis of representation in architecture and 
music. Because the mood is subjective rather than 
responsive, there is less necessity in these arts than in 
poetry, painting, or sculpture for expressing thoughts and 
emotions in such ways that they shall communicate 
definite information ; and because the method of expres- 
sion is sustained, there is less consciousness of external 
surroundings, and therefore less tendency to describe and 
imitate their appearances. For these reasons, the resem- 
blances to external appearances at the bases of these two 
subjective arts are comparatively few. They are some- 
times comprehended in a single significant series of out- 
lines or of tones from which the whole product is 




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32 PAINTING, SCULPTURE, AND ARCHITECTURE. 

developed in a way not possible in poetry, painting, or 
sculpture. But because the method is different in its 
practical application, it must not be supposed that it is 
different in principle. The representation, though not 
the same in degree, is not radically different in kind. 

It has already been shown, for instance, how by way of as- 
sociation, pillars of large size may represent the conception 
of strength as applied to support. It is evident, too, that 
they can do this no matter what may be the shape of 
that which is above them. But suppose that, taking a 
suggestion, as the early architects undoubtedly did, from 
the way in which limbs branch out from tree-trunks (see 
Figs. 9, page 33 ; 43, page 84 ; and 44, page 85), the wood 
and stone which the pillars support are also made to branch 
off from them as in arches (see Fig. 3, page 24) or that, 
taking a suggestion from the way in which the petals of 
flowers branch out from their stems, the different parts of 
the tops of the columns are made to branch out from them 
as in the Egyptian capital, Fig. 10, page 34, or the Greek 
Corinthian capital, Fig. 11, page 34, is it not evident that, 
when this has been done, something has been done which 
adds to the representation of the mere conception of 
supporting strength, a representation of the same effect 
as produced by appearances in nature ? 

Again, the laws of perspective, in architecture, as in 
painting and sculpture, give to large as contrasted with 
small size an effect of nearness. Massive outlines, 
therefore, in walls, pillars, ceilings, domes, spires, lessen 
our appreciation of their distance from us. It is safe to 
say that, although their actual measurements were the 
same, the width of the floor-space represented in Fig. 3, 
page 24, would appear to be scarcely more than half that 
in Fig. 4, page 25. So, too, owing to the massing of out- 







FIG. 9- -A SCENE IN THE WOODS. 
See pages 32, 73, 399. 



34 



PAINTING, SCULPTURE, AND ARCHITECTURE. 







FIG. 



10— EGYPTIAN LOTUS-LEAF CAPITAL 
FROM EDFU. 
See pages 32, 394, 398. 



lines in large, unbroken spaces, the church represented in 
Fig. 12, page 35, would, at the same distance, appear to be 

so much nearer us than 
would the more minute 
outlines in Fig. 13, page 36, 
that it would seem rela- 
tively smaller and lower. 
In fact, this effect of the 
massing of spaces is one 
reason why, as a rule, most 
Greek buildings (Fig. 14, 
page 36) or Greco-Roman 
(Fig. 12, page 35) appear 
smaller and lower than 
Gothic buildings of approximate dimensions. One must 
not lose sight of the fact, however, that these effects are 
subject also to the principle of contrast. In the painting 
in Fig. 8, page 31, it is the contrast between the larger 
forms at the front and 
the smaller at the rear 
that cause the former 
to seem nearer. So 
in architecture. Not- 
withstanding the ef- 
fects of slight distance 
conveyed by the large 
pillars in Fig. 3, page 
24, the contrast be- 
tween the width and 

the height Of the See pages 32, 3 8o, 398. 

whole building being greater than between the same 
dimensions in Fig. 4, page 25, may give a greater impres- 
sion of height than is conveyed by the latter. Notice 




11.— OLD CORINTHIAN CAPITAL 
FROM BRANCHIDAE. 



REPRESENTATION BY EXTENSION OR SIZE. 



35 



the same principle as exemplified in the effect of the 
tower in Fig, 24, page 52, as contrasted with that in Fig. 
2 5< page 53. As in all Gothic buildings the height usually 




FIG. 12 —ST. ISAAC'S, ST. PETERSBURG. 

Seepages 34, 36, 38, 42, 52, 78, 82, 352, 353, 356, 380. 

exceeds the width; while this is not true of other styles, 
we see a second reason for their apparently greater alti- 
tude. To observe this, compare the effects of the Gothic 
forms in Fig. 41, page 81, with the Greek forms in Fig. 14, 



36 PAINTING, SCULPTURE, AND ARCHITECTURE. 

page 36, and the Greco-Roman in Fig. 12, page 35, and 

the combination of the 
Romanesque and Byzan- 
tine in Fig. 15, page 37. 
Another reason for this 
effect of altitude in Gothic 
buildings will be found on 
page 68. 

Further explanations of 
methods of representing, 
in architecture, both men- 
tal conceptions and mate- 
rial appearances, will be 
found in Chapters XVII. 
to XXI. At present, 
enough has been said to 
See pages 34, 38, 42, 52, 322, 358, 380. enable the reader to under- 
stand the general tenor of what is meant by affirming 
that this is possible, and, for the highest excellence, is 




FIQ. 13.— HOUSES OF PARLIAMENT, 
FROM OLD PALACE YARD. 




FIQ. 14.— TEMPLE OF THESEUS, ATHENS. 
See pages 34, 35, 38, 42, 52, 84, 86, 322, 323, 380, 3S6, 387, 389. 



REPRESENTATION BY EXTENSION OR SIZE. 



3/ 



essential. Not only in painting and sculpture, but in 
architecture also, relatively large and small extension, 
corresponding in this regard to relatively long and short 
duration, have inevitable representative effects. Either 
by way of association or of comparison, or of both, they 
respectively indicate what is heavy, strong, substantial, 
immovable, important, influential, dignified, near, on the 
one hand ; or else, on the other hand, what is light, 
weak, unsubstantial, movable, unimportant, uninfluential, 







FIG. 15— CHURCH OF ST. MARK, VENICE. 

See pages 36, 3S, 42, 52, 78, 82, 86, 380/ 

undignified, remote. It is this principle that causes us, 
when looking at objects, to think more of a statue 
than of a doll, more of a cathedral than of a cottage, 
more of the fingers on a statue than of the fringe on 
which, perhaps, they rest, and more of the towers and 
domes of a building than of its chimneys and ventilators. 
The same principle applied in connection with the natural 
laws of perspective, causes us to give more consideration 
to the full-sized figures in the foreground of a paint- 



38 PAINTING, SCULPTURE, AND ARCHITECTURE. 

ing than to the minute objects in its background. If the 
picture be designed to interest us in animals, this fact is 
represented by large size that brings them to the front ; 
if in a pasture in which they are feeding, by small size 
that sends them to the rear. Overbalancing foliage, with 
a cherub's face just visible in it, emphasizes the prodigal- 
ity of inanimate nature. A full-sized statue, with a few 
flowers about it, emphasizes the pre-eminence of man. 
Contrast the lower and upper parts of Fig. 231, page 396. 
In a building, the requirements for the support either of 
many occupants or of a heavy superstructure are repre- 
sented by large foundations, walls, or pillars (see Fig. 14, 
page 36) ; accommodation for crowds, by wide entrances 
(see St. Mark's, Fig. 15, page 37) ; for light, in large, high 
rooms, by large windows (see Fig. 13, page 36); and for 
air, by high roofs or domes (Fig. 12, page 35, and Fig. 15, 
page 37)- 



CHAPTER IV. 

REPRESENTING BY MEANS OF SHAPE : THE ACCENTING 
OR SHADING OF OUTLINES. 

Force, Pitch, and Quality, as Exemplified in the Arts of Sound — Illus- 
tration — Pause and Accent as Correlated to Outline and Shading — 
Touch or Handling as Differing in Strength, Gradation, and 
Regularity : Strength — Examples of Strength and Delicacy of Touch 
in Outline Sketches — Other Examples — The Same as Applied in Con- 
nection with Color — As Applied in Sculpture — As Applied in Architec- 
ture — The Importance of the Effects of Light and Shade in this Art. 

13 EFORE passing on to representation as produced by 
shape as distinguished from size' let us recall again, 
and elaborate a little, that which on page 15 was said to 
correspond to it in the arts of sound. In that place the 
reader was reminded that a syllable or note exemplifying 
one form of duration, whether long or short, is always 
separated from another either by a pause involving an en- 
tire cessation of sound, or by some change in the mode of 
utterance, involving a cessation in the character of the 
sound, and that, in the latter case, the change is produced, 
first of all, by a difference in what is variously called force, 
intensity, stress, or accent. This difference causes a tone, by 
means of degrees of strength, gradation, or regularity, to 
be shaded, so to speak, to an ideal pause before it passes 
into another. Combined with this difference there was 
mentioned also a possible difference in pitch, one tone be- 

39 



40 PAINTING, SCULPTURE, AND ARCHITECTURE. 

ing made higher or lower, as related to the musical scale, 
than another tone ; and a possible difference in quality, one 
tone being articulated, vocalized, or, as we say, colored 
as another is not. 

The truth of these statements will be recognized upon 
reading the following. Elocutionists are accustomed to 
say that, in doing so, one should pause at the ends of 
the lines and at other places, some of which are indicated 
by the vertical bars. But notice that, when the verses are 
well read, there are seldom anywhere any real cessations of 
sound ; also that, in passing from one syllable to another, 
there is always a difference in accent or intensity, as well 
as, frequently, differences in pitch and quality or tone- 
color. 

Who would he 
A mermaid fair, 

Singing alone, 
Curling her hair 
JJnder the sea, 
In a golden curl 
With a comb of pearl, 

On a throne ? 

I / would be / a mermaid / fair. 
I would sing / to myself / the whole / of the day ; 
With a comb / of pearl / I would comb / my hair ; 
And still / as I combed / I would sing / and say, 
" Who is it loves me ? who loves not me ? " 

The Mermaid : Tennyson. 

In the realm of sight vacancies, and, in the arts of sight, 
strongly marked outlines that separate one part of the whole 
extension or space from other parts, giving it thus what we 
term shape, correspond to pauses in the arts of sound. 
But shape is indicated not only by these outlines at the 
top, sides, or bottom of an object or parts of an object ; 



REPRESENTING BY MEANS OF SHAPE. 



41 



but often also by the accent given to the outlines through 
the shading of them ; and it is always indicated by this 
when it is neces- 



sary to show the 
shape of a sur- 
face that is fac- 
ing us, as wheth- 
er it be concave 
or convex, or 
whether its text- 
ure be fine or 
coarse, smooth 



or rouen. In <g 



drawing and 
painting, shad- 
ing is usual- 
ly produced 
through the use 
of lines either 
in black or in 
color, which, for 
this purpose, are 
either abruptly 
or gradually, les- 
sened in number 
or intensity (see 
Fig. 16). In 
sculpture and 
architecture the 
same effect is 
produced as a 
natural result of 




FIQ. 16— LIGHT AND SHADE. W. CRANE. 
See pages 18, 41, 44, 46, 294, 307, 



a projection or depression of surfaces, which brings certain 



42 PAINTING, SCULPTURE, AND ARCHITECTURE. 

parts into the light and sends others into the shade. See 
Figs. 12-15 m the last chapter. The connection between 
outlining and shading is, therefore,very close, and evidently 
the effect indicated by the former word, as ordinarily used, 
includes the conceptions suggested by both. An object 
may be outlined either by an actual line separating its sides 
from other objects, or by the shading which, with or with- 
out actual lines, is so disposed as to indicate the character 
of the surface or texture. Notice, too, that the word out- 
line, as thus used, may refer either to a narrow pencil-line, 
as in drawing, or to a much broader brush-line, as in paint- 
ing, or to a very broad protuberance or string-course, even 
to a column or entablature, as in sculpture or architecture. 

Taking the term outlines in this general sense, as fac- 
tors entering into the appearances of art, which, as 
appearances, no matter how caused, are representative, 
three general ways, as stated on page 15, may be recog- 
nized in which the touch or handling, producing these 
outlines, may differ, namely in strength, in gradation, and 
in regularity. In the first place, just as force when ap- 
plied to sounds may be loud or soft, so the effects of touch 
may be heavy or light, coarse or fine ; and may thus rep- 
resent, as indicated on page 19 the greater or lesser degrees 
of mental energy or strength expended by the artist, or of 
material energy or strength attributable to the appearance 
which is reproduced. 

Fortunately, in a place where one could not satisfacto- 
rily introduce illustrations containing color, it has been 
found possible to obtain sketches which, without possess- 
ing color, can illustrate this statement. They are all the 
more satisfactory, too, inasmuch as they were intended 
by the artist who drew them to illustrate not this subject, 
but another to which reference will be made later. 




o - 
(_ w 
co f* 

O \o 



CO P* 

I 



44 PAINTING, SCULPTURE, AND ARCHITECTURE. 

Compare Fig. 17, page 43 with Fig 18, page 45. Is it 
not a fact that the heavier and coarser lines characterizing 
the first of these, give one an entirely different conception 
of the degree of mental energy exerted by the artist, than 
do the lighter and finer lines characterizing the second? 
From the first we receive an impression of strength ; from 
the second, an impression of delicacy. Were the two pro- 
duced by different artists, and were these the only speci- 
mens of their work that we had seen, we might be justified 
in saying that the style of the one was characterized by 
strength, and the style of the other by delicacy, and 
we might infer that the difference in their styles was 
owing to a difference in their mental characteristics. But 
notice, now, that there is a reason outside of the mind of 
the artist for the manifestation of energy in the one sketch ; 
and of a lack of energy in the other. He has been true 
to the conditions that inspired him. He has shown men- 
tal energy in the first drawing because nature itself had 
shown him energy in the appearance which he was to 
reproduce. These heavy lines are representative not 
merely of his own moods, but of these as excited by what 
he has seen, and with which therefore his moods are in 
sympathy. Nothing, so well as such lines, could manifest 
the impetuous fury of the storm, the violent swaying of 
the trees, or the resisting strength of these and of the 
rocks. Nor could anything, so well as the delicate lines, 
represent the restful gentleness of the other scene, the 
trees of which look as if unable to stand the slightest 
blow, and the shores of which seem ready to yield to the 
feeblest flood. 

Again contrast Fig. 16 page 41 with Fig. 167 page 293, 
and observe how, even aside from other causes contributing 
to the effect, the lines in the latter figure, though only 







Hi 

z 
< 

a: 

C co 

» 

M 

X M 

Ml t/5 

co bfl 

uJ rt 

Z ft, 

-I <u 

1 <° 



46 PAINTING, SCULPTURE, AND ARCHITECTURE. 

slightly stronger, make it representative of mental energy 
in a sense not quite so true of the former ; and, as related 
to the representation of natural appearances, observe in 
Fig. 16 the comparatively fine lines or the lack of lines used 
in delineating the texture of the marble and of the flowers ; 
and observe in Fig. 167, page 293, the same kinds of lines 
used in delineating the sky, as well as the boy's flesh and 
garments. Is it not a fact that these differences in the 
shading or strength of lines, in such cases, can be rightly 
termed representative both of mental and material con- 
ditions ? 

Of course, the same general principles must apply to 
lines produced through the use of color also. " By a few 
strokes," says Reynolds, in his eleventh " Discourse on 
Painting," " Titian knew how to mark the general image 
and character of whatever object he attempted ; and pro- 
duced, by this alone, a truer representation than his 
master, Giovanni Bellini, or any of his predecessors who 
finished every hair." In a passage, too, which, as indi- 
cated by the italics here introduced, might be quoted in 
confirmation of the theory presented in this book, because 
undoubtedly referring at times to the representation of 
mind, and at other times to the representation of material 
nature, Charles Blanc says, in his " Grammar of Painting 
and Engraving," translated by R. N. Doggett, " touch is 
the handwriting of the painter, the stroke of his mind. . . . 
Leonardo da Vinci treated all his pictures with equal 
touch, smooth and melting. Titian himself made little 
difference, and only in the ' Peter Martyr ' and ' The As- 
sumption ' he seems led by his subject to accents more 
animated, more marked than usual. . . . Poussin, 
painting ' Pyrrhus Saved ' or the ' Rape of the Sabines ' 
[Fig. 36, page 75], treats his painting with a manly hand 



REPRESENTING BY MEANS OF SHAPE. 



47 



and intentional rudeness, while he guides the pencil with 
more gentleness when he represents ' Rebecca ' and her 
companions. Rubens expresses his feelings with more 
energy than ever when he puts on the stage the peasants 
of the ' Kermesse ' or the furious, breathless hunters of 
the 'Wild 



Michael Angelo 



Boar. . . . 
executed 
with extreme delicacy the 
grand ' Prophets ' of the 
Sistine Chapel and the ter- 
rible figures of the ' Last 
Judgment ' ; but it is an 
example not to be imitated 
. . . Touch ought to be 
varied . . . according 
to the c liar act er of the 
objects. . . . Look at 
one of Greuze's young 
girls, weeping over a brok- 
en picture or a dead bird ; 
beside the fine, delicate, 
transparent, satiny flesh, 
the chemise is rendered 
by a pencil that does not 
give even the idea of lines, 
or give an idea so gross as 
to shock. . . . Teniers, 
on the contrary, admirably accommodates his touch to the 
physiognomy of each object. Without the least difficulty, 
and as if in sport, he recognizes and characterizes the flesh 
tints ; here the fresh, thin skin of a young farm girl, there 
the rough skin of an old fiddler. . . . But outside of 
these conventionalities which require that the handling of 




FIG. 19— PALLAS OF VELLETRI : 
LOUVRE, PARIS. 

See pages 49, 76, 281. 



48 PAINTING, SCUIPTURE, AND ARCHITECTURE. 



the pencil should be varied, the touch of the painter will 
always be good if it is natural, that is, according to his 
heart. Ribera is coarse, but his coarseness does not dis- 
please, because it is sin- 
cere. Rembrandt has a 
mysterious palette, be- 
cause he has a genius 
dreamy and profound. 
Velasquez is frank, be- 
cause his pencil is guided 
by the muse of truth. 
The touch of Poussin is 
like his character, noble 
and expressively simple. 
Rubens handled the 
brush with the nerve and 
warmth that animated 
him. . . . Prud'hon, am- 
orous and sad poet, chose 
a soft, sweet execution 
that lulled lines to sleep, 
tranquillized shadows, 
and let nature appear 
only through a veil of 
love and poetry." 

The same differences 
between the representa- 
tive effects of strength in 
outline are perceptible 
in sculpture also. It is 




FIG. 20.— APOLLO (SAUROCTONOS). 

PRAXITELES: VATICAN. 

See pages 49, 61, 76, 136, 223, 281. 



not only the distinction between a statue's being 
clothed and being unclothed that causes the energetic, 
firm dignity of effect produced by the many strong lines 



REPRESENTING BY MEANS OF SHAPE. 



49 



in Fig. 19, page 47, and the yielding and graceful, but com- 
paratively weak effect, so far as concerns character, pro- 
duced by the smooth surfaces of Fig. 20, page 48. The 




FIG. 21.— THE LAOCOON GROUP. 
See pages 49, 77, 174, 223, 281, 284, 285. 

forms in the Laocoon, Fig. 21, page 49, are not clothed; 
but notice the feeling of energy and strength conveyed by 
the way in which the serpent and the human limbs are 



5<D PAINTING, SCULPTURE, AND ARCHITECTURE. 

projected from the deep shadows which the arrangement 
of them necessitates. The same is true of Michael 
Angelo's statue of " Giuliano de' Medici, with Figures of 
Night and Day " (Fig. 170, page 301). Notice in this how 
not only the arrangement of the limbs but of all the sur- 
faces is designed to bring out strongly contrasting effects 




FIQ. 22.— GROUP FROM MAUSOLEUM OF MARIA CHRISTINA. CANOVA AT VIENNA. 
See pages 50, 73, 263, 286. 



of light and shade. So, too, compare the strong, energetic 
effect of the high relief in Fig. 22, page 50, with the 
somewhat less strong effect in the lower relief in Fig. 23, 
page 51, and the weak effect where there is no relief 
at all, as in Fig. 5, page 27. As Barry, in the fifth of 
the " Lectures by the Royal Academicians," says, with 
reference to this art : " In groups and figures in the round, 



REPRESENTING BY MEANS OF SHAPE. 



51 



the masses of light and shade, or, in other words, the 
agreeable or majestic effect of the work in all its possible 
views, cannot be too much attended to. The taste of 
lines and harmonious flow of the parts or several mem- 
bers of the work, whether a group or a single figure, their 
variety and their combined unity, are the efficient causes 
of that light and shade which give ease and satisfaction 
to the eye of the spectator, and engage him, as it were, to 




FIQ. 23.— THE SOLDIER'S RETURN. 

(From the National Monument near Bingen, Germany.) 

See pages 50, 286, 302. 

enter into the contemplation of those still more essential 
beauties of a higher order, which result from the sublime 
conception of the form and character and the graceful or 
pathetic expression of the subject . . . high and low 
rilievo, perspectively sinking into a proper intaglio, is 
. . . capable of producing the sublimest and most 
wonderful effects in sculpture." 

The same is true as applied to architecture ; and here, 
as is always the case in this art, by way mainly of associa- 



52 PAINTING, SCULPTURE, AND ARCHITECTURE. 

tioh. Any one at all sensitive to aesthetic effects, will feel, 
almost at a first glance, the impression of strength con- 
veyed by the pillars of the Greek temples, as in Fig. 14, 
page 36, or by the pilasters of the Renaissance buildings, 
as in Fig. 196, page 349; or by the buttresses of the Gothic 
cathedrals, as in Fig. 41, page 81 ; or by any arrange- 




FIQ. 24.-0LD SOUTH CHURCH, BOSTON. 
See pages 35, 54, 84, 331, 380. 

ments, perpendicular or vertical, that add to the possibili- 
ties and presence of shadows, as in Fig. 12, page 35, Fig. 
13, page 36, or Fig. 15, page 37. He will feel, too, the 
impression of a certain amount of structural weakness 
conveyed by plain walls, such as appear in Fig. 173, page 




OQ co 



CO 



3: 
o 

DC CO 

O °o 



id bJO 



54 PAINTING, SCULPTURE, AND ARCHITECTURE. 

319, Fig. 185, page 338, and in Fig. 190, page 343. A fav- 
orable opportunity for observing the difference between 
these two effects happens to be afforded in Boston by two 
buildings visible from the same square, namely, Trinity 
Church, Fig. 25, page 53, and the old South Church, 
Fig. 24, page 52. The masonry of both may be equally 
strong, but in Trinity Church the heavy projections — 
especially the pillars over the front door that necessitate 
foundation-walls broad enough to support both them and 
the wall back of them, as well as the attendant shadows 
in other parts of the building — suggest that nothing short 
of an earthquake could cause its sides to tumble, while, 
apparently, a single conflagration might entirely prostrate 
those of the other church. See also what is said on page 

33i. 

" As the great poem and the great picture," says 
Ruskin, in his " Seven Lamps of Architecture," " gener- 
ally affect us most by the majesty of their masses of light 
and shade, and cannot take hold of us if they affect a con- 
tinuance of lyric sprightliness, but must be serious often 
and sometimes melancholy, else they do not express the 
truth. ... I do not believe that ever any building 
was truly great unless it had mighty masses, vigorous and 
deep, of shadow mingled with its surfaces." But enough 
has been quoted to show that it is no mere whim of the 
present writer to attribute to the strength or weakness, 
firmness or indecision of outlines in connection with their 
accompanying shadows, a representation of the degrees of 
mental strength expended by the artist, or of material 
strength manifested by the factors of which his product 
is composed. 



CHAPTER V. 

GRADATION IN THE OUTLINES OF SHAPES, CURVED, 
ANGULAR, AND BOTH COMBINED. 

Meaning and Effect of Gradation as Applied to Outline — Effects of Gradation 
in the Arts of Sound — Corresponding Effects in the Arts of Sight — Three 
Methods of Describing the Outlines of a Form — Each Method Repre- 
sentative of both Mental and Material Conditions — How Drawing by 
the Hand is Representative of Instructive, Reflective, and Emotive 
Mental Conditions — How the Actions of the Body are Representative of 
the Same — How Appearances in Nature are Similarly Representative 
to the Mind of the Spectator — Curvature — Angularity — Straight Lines 
Horizontality and Effects of Repose — Verticality and Effects of Eleva- 
tion and Aspiration — Mixed Lines and Effects of Excitation — Illustra- 
tions from Landscape Gardening — From Painting and Sculpture — 
Quotations Confirming these Explanations as Applied to Painting — To 
Sculpture — Similar Outlines as Used in Architecture — Their Represen- 
tative Meanings : The Rounded Forms — The Straight Lines and 
Angles — The Combinations of Both — Recapitulation. 

IV] O W let us notice the differences in the effects of touch 
or handling produced by what, on page 15, is termed 
gradation. This term is used in art to indicate the relative 
degrees of change through which, whether gradually or 
abruptly, a factor of one kind is made to pass into another 
of a different kind. Sometimes the principle is applied 
to the arrangements of suggestions introduced into a 
rhetorical climax ; sometimes to the arrangements of 
light and shade and color ; and sometimes to the 
arrangements of other features. Here, as was shown 

55 



$6 PAINTING, SCULPTURE, AND ARCHITECTURE. 

to be appropriate on pages 281 to 287 of " The 
Genesis of Art-Form," the term indicates the relative 
degrees of change through which outlines moving in 
one direction are made to pass into those moving in 
other directions, and, all together are thus made to in- 
close a space. The most gradual way of inclosing a space 
is, of course, through the use of a circle or curve. A way 
somewhat less gradual, is through a use of straight lines 
combined with very obtuse angles, as in an octangle. A 
still less gradual way is through a square or triangle ; and, 
of all triangles, the least gradual is one containing a very 
acute angle. As will be noticed, there is nothing in this 
kind of an angle that resembles a circle ; but the general 
effect of an octangle, or of any regular figure with many 
sides does resemble this. At the same time, the octagon's 
actual features — straight lines and angles — are the same, 
differently arranged, as those of the triangle. Once more, 
it is important to notice that a curve, if long enough, like 
that encircling the world, for instance, cannot be dis- 
tinguished from a straight line ; nor can the two sides 
of an angle, if sharp enough, be distinguished from 
parallel lines. These facts render it possible to say that 
between the extremes of longest curvature and sharpest 
angularity, as applied to the inclosure of spaces, there 
may be included not only all conceivable outlines 
formed of curves and angles, but also of straight lines 
when parallel. 

The term gradation as thus used to indicate the way in 
which outlines inclose shapes, is the same as is applied in 
Chapter VI. of " Poetry as a Representative Art " to a 
corresponding effect in the arts of sound. This corre- 
sponding effect (see page 16 of the present volume) is pro- 
duced by the blending of tones in elocutionary stress and 



GRADATION IN THE OUTLINES OF SHAPES. 57 

of syllables or notes in poetical or musical measures, 
measures with their accents contributing to the general 
impression produced by rhythm precisely as do measure- 
ments with their shadings to the general impression pro- 
duced by proportion. Simply because, as a rule, single 
syllables or notes cannot constitute measures, nor single 
lines, i. e., lines moving in a single direction, all that is 
meant by measurements, it is, in the last analysis, the 
method of gradation through which the syllables, notes, 
or lines pass into one another, which determines the 
general effect. In accordance with this statement, the 
impression conveyed by measures when combined, tends, 
as indicated on page 17, either toward a running or, as we 
may term it, a curved effect, as in initial measure termed 
by the Greeks Trochee, taken from the word rpoxo$ f a 
wheel, e. g. : 

We the fairies blithe and antic, 
Of dimensions not gigantic ; 
Though the moonshine mostly keep us, 
Oft in orchards frisk and peep us. 

— Fah'ies' Song- : Tho?nas Randolph, [Lathi). 

Trans, by Leigh Hunt. 

Or toward a pushing, puncturing, effect, as in terminal 
measure, termed by the Greeks iambic from ianro, to 
drive forth, shoot, assail, e. g. : 



Think not, thou eagle Lord of Rome, 

And master of the world, 
Though victory's banner o'er thy dome 

In triumph now is furled, 
I would address thee as thy slave, 
But as the bold should greet the brave. 

— Caractacus : Bernard Barton. 



58 PAIN TING, SC ULP TURE, A ND A R CHITE CTURE. 

Or toward a combination of both, as in the following, 
where there is still more of a running or swelling effect, 
and yet, as on the accented syllables, more also of a push- 
ing or puncturing effect : 

I sprang to the stirrup, and Joris, and he, 

I galloped, Dirk galloped, we galloped all three. 

— How They Brought the Good News : Browning. 

Corresponding effects in measurements were said to 
cause lines to describe shapes, gradually, as in curves, ab- 
ruptly, as in angles, or both gradually and abruptly, as in 
combinations of the two. Now, in order to ascertain 
that of which each of these methods is representative, let 
us observe certain of the conditions determining or ac- 
companying the uses of them. 

While doing this, it will not be long before we are led 
to notice three facts, each applicable to conditions both 
within the mind, and in the surrounding world outside of it. 
The first fact is that, as a form is complete in the degree 
in which it is inclosed upon all sides, the most instinctive 
way — i. e., the way involving least thought — in which to 
meet the requirements of the form, is to draw outlines 
describing some sort of a curve, beginning and ending at 
the same point. Moreover, when we look at nature, we 
find many objects, like plants, rocks, and hills, the outlines 
of which can apparently be described in this same general 
way. The second fact is, that only after we have begun 
to reflect a little upon the possibilities of an appearance 
do we make its outlines, provided they are to inclose a 
space, describe many angles. That is to say, using angles 
thus, necessitates our stopping to think where they shall 
be. Moreover, an angular form, when completed, sel- 
dom resembles closely anything in nature ; and it almost 



GRADATION IN THE OUTLINES OF SHAPES. 59 

never does this, except as a result of imitation. The third 
fact is, that still another way of drawing outlines, mainly 
determined by our feelings or emotions, may make them 
partly curved and partly straight, partly rounded, and 
partly angular, partly tangent and partly parallel ; and, of 
course, among their possibilities may be included an imi- 
tation of any of the appearances of nature, however varied. 

Such facts of themselves are enough to suggest that 
there is a reason why outlines of each of these three kinds 
should be representative of both mental and material con- 
ditions. But that this is so, can be brought out still more 
clearly. At the same time, too, it can be shown why, as 
stated on page 19, the difference in the gradations of out- 
lines represents mental energy rather than that physical 
phase of it which is represented by the differences in 
strength or accentuation which have been already con- 
sidered. We shall find that, in a sense not true of the 
mere accentuation of outlines, their methods of passing 
one into another represent, on the one hand, effects which 
are due to conditions of thought in the mind of the artist, 
and, on the other hand, effects which appearances, having 
these outlines, exert upon the conditions of thought in 
the mind of the spectator. 

That the effects are due to conditions in the mind of 
the artist may be perceived by drawing at Jiap-hazard a 
large number of long lines describing shapes, and then 
examining them, and the ways in which they are related 
to one another. Upon doing this, we shall find, first, 
that, in the degree in which the lines have been dashed 
off instinctively, i. e., with no reflection, the natural move- 
ment of the hand has caused most of them to describe 
curves ; second, that in the degree in which they have 
been the results of reflection they show a decided ten- 



6o PAINTING, SCULPTURE, AND ARCHITECTURE. 




dency toward straightness, necessitating, of course, the 
use of angles ; and, third, that in the degree in which they 
have been the results of a restful, in the sense of a pas- 
sive emotive state, the curves or straight lines are long, the 

angles few and sim- 
ilar, and the shapes 
comparatively regu- 
lar ; but in the de- 
gree in which they 
have been the re- 
sults of restlessness 
or an excited emo- 
tive state, both 
curves and angles 
are many and di- 
vers, and the whole 
shapes are compara- 
tively irregular. In 
fact, as a rule, we can 
recognize at once, 
upon glancing at 
shapes thus drawn, 
whether a man has 
made them without 
thought or with it ; 
or whether his emo- 
tions have been in 
a state of restfulness 
or excitement. 
Now let us take a broader view of the subject, and con- 
sider, as related to representation, the action not merely 
of a man's hand, but of his whole body. We shall find 
that, in the degree in which his expression is instinctive 




FIQ. 26.— FIGURE FROM NAUSICA. E. J. POYNTER. 
See pages 61, 72, 129, 130, 133. 



GRADATION IN THE OUTLINES OF SHAPES. 



6l 



in the sense of being spontaneous and unconscious, be- 
cause uninfluenced or unimpeded by conditions that come 
from without, his gait, postures, and gestures all tend to 
assume the forms of free, large, graceful curves. See Fig. 26, 
page 60 ; also Fig. 20, 
page 48 ; Fig. 34, page 
71 ; and Fig. 83, page 
144. But in the degree 
in which his expression 
is reflective, in the sense 
of being made respon- 
sive and calculating in 
order to meet con- 
ditions from without, 
especially in the degree 
in which these con- 
ditions check, impede, 
and embarrass him, and 
make him conscious of 
this fact, or self-con- 
scious, as we say, — in 
this degree we shall find 
that his bearing is stiff, 
constrained, and awk- 
ward, imparting to all 
his movements a ten- 
dency to assume the 
forms of straight lines 
and angles. See the 

woman in Fig. 27, page 61 ; also the positions in Fig. 
39, page 79. Both these extremes are emotive, as is all 
human expression (page 21); but sharp angles and short 
curves will give way to straighter lines and longer curves 




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^rono/ilion. de JrUtrlaye du. c<ec/urctr 



FIG. 27.— PROPOSITION OF MARRIAGE. 
D. CHODOWIECK. 
See pages 6i, 138, 147, 160, 161, 169, 175. 



62 PAINTING, SCULPTURE, AND ARCHITECTURE. 



in the degree in which outside conditions do not wholly 
overcome a man's spontaneity, but cause him to make 
his instinctive promptings reflective, as in exerting the 
moral influence of confident assertion, Fig. 28, page 62 ; 
or enthusiastic persuasion, Fig. 2, page 21, and Fig. 

84, page 145. But angles 
will predominate in the 
degree in which he is 
conscious of interfer- 
ence, as in supposed op- 
position, whether this 
be mental, as in Fig. 29, 
page 63 ; and more de- 
cidedly so, as in Fig. JJ 
page 135 ; or material, as 
in Fig. 30, page 64 ; and 
Fig. 58, page 104 ; or 
both together, as in the 
two figures at the front 
of Fig. 39, page 79 ; or 
as in fighting. The lat- 
ter condition will double 
up his frame and throw 
his neck, elbows, knees, 
and hips into shapes 
-,« o„ -r-ur- A^, ,^ »...%»•».-„<: that will make his form 

FIQ. 28.— THE APOLLO BELVEDERE. 

See pages 62, 138, 147, 149, 151, 224, 281. the best possible repre- 
sentation of what can be 
described by only the term angularity ; yet from this 
appearance in such cases, curves are never entirely absent. 
See Fig. 31, page 65 ; also Figs. 73 and 74, page 132. 

So much for the meaning of outlines, whether sketched 
by the hand or assumed by the body. Now let us notice 




GRADATION IN THE OUTLINES OF SHAPES. 



63 



how, as manifested not in the human form but in the inani- 
mate appearances of nature surrounding it, similar outlines 
are fitted to represent, and so to awaken, corresponding- 
conceptions in the mind of the spectator. The curve has 
been ascribed to the instinctive, or, as we may term it, 
the physically normal action of the human form. Is there 
any truth in the supposition that similar appearances ex- 
ternal to man may be ascribed to sources similar in charac- 




FIQ. 29 —AUTHOR AND CRITICS. H. STACY MARKS, R.A. 
See pages 62, 151, 152, 156, 172, 173, 177, 178, 270. 



ter? Why should there not be ? The eye itself is circular, 
and the field of vision which it views, at any one moment, 
always appears to be the same. So does the horizon and 
the zenith, and so, too, do most of the objects that they 
contain — the heaving mountain, the rising smoke or vapor ; 
the rolling wave, the gushing fountain, the rippling stream, 
even the bubbles of its water and the pebbles of its chan- 



GRADATION IN THE OUTLINES OF SHAPES. 



65 



nel, and every tree, plant, and animal, whether at rest or 
in motion. For this reason, curves, wherever seen, neces- 
sarily suggest more or less of that which is normal, or, as 
applied to natural animate life, of that which has the 
buoyancy, freedom, and joyousness which we instinctively 
associate with the possession of this. See the forms at 
the right of Fig. 32, page 67. 

The straight line with its accompanying angles we have 
found to be produced by a man chiefly as a result of the 
reflective action of his mind. How is it with similar 
effects in the appearances surround- 
ing him ? Do not rectangles with 
their straight, parallel sides (devel- 
oped from angularity, page 56), as in 
buildings and in so many other ob- 
jects made by men, invariably suggest 
results of construction, and, there- 
fore, of reflection expended upon 
them ? Nor are such suggestions 
confined to objects with reference to 
which a man's interference with the 
normal action of nature is unmistak- 
able. By way of association, the Seepages 62, 145, 167,171. 
horizontal hilltop, the sharply per- 
pendicular cliff, the pointed peak, cause us to think and 
often to say that they look precisely as if a man had 
been at work upon them, levelling or blasting. Few 
natural objects, indeed, have outlines absolutely straight 
or angular ; but always, in the degree in which they are 
so, the impression naturally produced by curves, which 
is that of a growth outward from normal vitality within, 
is lessened. We feel that life has in some way been 
literally blasted. As a rule, it is the great convulsions 
5 




FIG. 31— AN ATTACK. 



66 PAINTING, SCULPTURE, AND ARCHITECTURE. 

of nature, whether produced by fire, frost, wind, or 
earthquake, that leave behind them, if their progress can 
be traced at all, such results of crystallizing, cracking, and 
rending, as are manifested in straight lines and angles. 
Notice these at the left of Fig. 32, page 67. No wonder, 
therefore, that wherever seen they are associated in our 
minds with the work of extraneous force acting upon the 
forms from the outside, as the volcano does when it rends 
the rocks and throws the lava through and over them, and 
as the tempest does, when it bends the trees and tears off 
their branches. Notice, again, Fig. 17, page 43. 

Now let us consider the possibilities of emotive effects 
between these two extremes of form (see page 1 1). When, 
notwithstanding curves or angles, the general appearance 
of a shape approximates that of straight, parallel lines, it 
must be then (see page 65) that the appearance is most 
suggestive of reflective influences. This being so, in the 
degree in which the lines are long and absolutely straight, 
they must suggest reflection or thought of the most un- 
changing as well as distinctive character, as in persistence, 
seriousness, or dignity. Now notice that these straight 
lines may tend to be either horizontal or vertical. Does it 
require any argument to show that, if horizontal, they 
are suggestive of persistence, seriousness, or dignity in re- 
pose, and, if vertical, of the same in activity ? What is so 
firmly fixed in position as a long straight beam, lying flat 
on the ground ; and what is so hard to get or easy to 
keep in position as the same placed vertically ? It is 
strictly in accordance with the principle of correspondence, 
therefore, that the former should represent ie^tfulness, and 
the latter difficulty overcome by effort, and, if through 
human agency, by human effort, or by that in the soul 
which makes the effort possible. For this reason, there- 




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6S PAINTING, SCULPTURE, AND ARCHITECTURE. 

fore, as well as because, by pointing upward, it carries the 
thought upward (which is the ordinary way of explaining 
the effect), the vertical line may be said to represent aspi- 
ration and elevation of aim. Of course, too, because com- 
posed of lines very nearly vertical, sharp angles pointing 
upward, as in Gothic window-caps and spires, represent 
the same. Observe, too, how in this architectural style 
the parallelism of the vertical lines repeats and emphasizes 
the emotive effect due to their directions, and augments 
it by regularity. See page 22 and Chap. VI. 

Curves and angles, when their lines are greatly broken, 
suggest the changing and transient, and also, when crossed, 
the complex. Because complex, they are perplexing; and 
provided they are nevertheless disposed in such ways as 
to render the fact of some design indisputable, they are 
exciting, as far as lines can be so, to the imagination, con- 
stantly stimualting it, as they do, to solve the mystery of 
their mode of arrangement. Such being their effects, one 
would expect to find the natural forms characterized by 
them proving more exciting to the emotions than those 
already considered. And when we examine the appear- 
ances about us, is not this exactly what we do find? Is 
it not when complicated curves and angles outline natural 
trifles that they fascinate and make men imitate them in 
their curios ? Is it not when curves, straight lines and 
angles join in natural forms of grander import, when the 
tree and bush are wreathed about the precipice, when the 
dome-like mountain and the rolling cloud lift above the 
sharp peak and cloven crag, and far below them lies the 
flat plain or lake, — is it not then, in connection with 
such combinations, that the most exciting appeal is made 
through the emotions to the imagination ? 

That the facts are as here suggested, will be evident to 
any one who will make a careful study of the subtle effects 




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JO PAINTING, SCULPTURE, AND ARCHITECTURE. 

upon the mind of different scenes in nature, and of the 
imitations of them in art. Indeed, a slight indication of 
what is meant may be observed in Fig. 32, page 67. In 
this place a good way, perhaps, of discovering the repre- 
sentative capabilities of these different appearances, is to 
recall the use that is made of them by the landscape 
gardener. Is it not a fact that, in case he desire to direct 
attention to the beauty of nature in itself, i. e., to the 
capabilities of nature with the least possible suggestion of 
the intervention of a human mind, — that in this case his 
plans will develop into gradually rising mounds and cir- 
cuitous drives, winding among trees and shrubs planted 
in clusters but not in rows? On the contrary, if he desire 
to produce a distinctly different impression, causing 
thought to revert from nature to man, either to the artist 
who has arranged things as they are, or to the resident or 
visitor for whose convenience or guidance they have been 
so arranged, then will he not plan for distinctly different 
effects, as in the long avenue bordered with its rows of 
trees, or in the terrace, or the hedge, or the flower garden 
with straight and rectangular pathways? Or, once more, if 
he desire to produce more emotional impressions by means 
of which the observer may be drawn more into sympathy 
with his designs and the ingenuity of them, will he not 
make more use of variety and contrast, combining the 
winding walks of the ramble with sharp angles, perpen- 
dicular rocks with rounded moss banks, or shooting cata- 
racts with still pools ? 

Is it strange that similar principles should apply to 
painting and sculpture ? Notice, again, the effect of the 
gentle curves in Fig. 18, page 45, and at the right of 
Fig. 32, page 67. Notice, too, those in Fig. 33, page 69. 
How clearly indicative they are of an internal, spon- 




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72 PAINTING, SCULPTURE, AND ARCHITECTURE, 

taneous, normal development of natural formation ! 
Observe, also, the allied instinctive human expression of 
the same in the buoyancy, freedom, and joyousness ex- 
pressed by the curves in Fig. 26, page 60, also in Fig. 
34, page 71. Now recall the results of extraneous ab- 




FIQ. 35.— ADORATION OF THE MAGI. P. VERONESI. 

See pages 73, 174, 263, 276. 



normal influences, first, as exerted by natural forces, as in 
Fig. 17, page 43, and at the left of Fig. 32, page 67; and, 
second, as exerted by the allied reflective agency of man, 
as in Fig. 30, page 64. Once more, look at the effects 
of repose as suggested, first, by the horizontality of the 



GRADATION IN THE OUTLINES OF SHAPES. 73 

arrangements of natural scenery in Fig. 18, page 45, and, 
second, with more reflective design, by the human figure 
in connection with scenery, as in Fig. 33, page 69. Con- 
trast with this the aspiration expressed by the verticality 
of the lines in Fig. 9, page 33 ; and, owing to the non- 
natural arrangement in a regular row, the more humanly 
thoughtful and reflective suggestion of the same in Fig. 
44, page 85. Notice, too, the same impression as clearly 
conveyed by the whole form in Fig. 2, page 21, and more 
subtly conveyed by the extended limb of the angel in 
Fig. 22, page 50. Finally, observe, in connection with 
the many curves which impart a suggestion of instinctive 
freedom to the mode of expression, the same reflective 
and hence serious, dignified, aspiration suggested by the 
upward lines in Fig. 35, page 72. The united effects 
in it of curves and long upward lines, make it a fine il- 
lustration of that blending of the instinctive and reflective 
tendencies which, on page 11, was said to be the condition 
of emotive expression. 

Though differently explained, the effects of these forms 
have usually been recognized to be as thus stated. Charles 
Blanc, for instance, in his " Grammar of Painting and En- 
graving," translated by R. N. Doggett, says : " In the 
choice of the great lines, a certain character should be 
dominant. . . . Straight or curved, horizontal or ver- 
tical, parallel or divergent, all the lines have a secret rela- 
tion to the sentiment." John Ruskin, too, recalling 
several instances in which prominent features of certain 
of Turner's pictures are arranged along a framework of 
curved lines, speaks of these as being the ones most fre- 
quently found in nature ; and in " Winkleman's Ancient 
Art," he says that as they " are more beautiful than straight 
lines, it is necessary " — too strong a word to use except 



74 PAINTING, SCULPTURE, AND ARCHITECTURE. 

when making an application to landscape — " to a good 
composition that its continuities of object mass or color 
should be, if possible, in curves rather than in straight 
lines or angular ones." " In the spectacles of the world," 
says Charles Blanc in the work just quoted, " as in the 
human figure, in painting, or in architecture, the straight 
lines correspond to a sentiment of austerity and force, and 
give to a composition in which they are repeated, a grave, 
imposing, rigid aspect." This is the same, of course, as 
to say that these lines, together with the angles that neces- 
sarily accompany them, represent not the free, buoyant, 
joyous conceptions conveyed by curves, but constrained, 
grave, and serious conceptions. In connection with this, 
the same writer indicates the representative suggestions 
of the two general directions in which these lines, when 
emphasized by the repetitions of parallelism, may point. 
" The horizontals," he says, "which express in nature the 
calmness of the sea, the majesty of the far-off horizon, 
the vegetal tranquillity of the strong resisting trees, the 
quietude of the globe after the catastrophes that have up- 
heaved it, motiveless, eternal duration — the horizontals in 
painting express analogous sentiments, the same character 
of eternal repose, of peace, of duration. . . . Witness 
the ' Testament of Eudamidas ' ; in it, Poussin has re. 
peated the horizontal lines. Lying upon his death-bed 
the citizen of Corinth forms the dominant line of the ar- 
rangement. The lance of the hero repeats this line, and, 
prostrate like him, seems condemned to the repose of his 
master, and to affirm a second time his death." Again 
referring to the vertical lines, he says : " Look now at 
' The Life of Saint Bruno,' by Lesueur, . . . The sol- 
emnity of the religious sentiment, which is an ascending 
aspiration, is expressed in it by the dominant repetition 



GRADATION IN THE OUTLINES OF SHAPES. 



75 



and parallelism of the verticals ; and this parallelism, which 
would be only monotony if the painter had had other per- 
sonages to put upon the canvas, becomes an expressive 
repetition when it is necessary to render apparent the re- 
spect and uniformity of the monastic rule, the silence, 
meditation, renunciation of the cloister." Once more, in 
language applying accurately to only what we have here 
termed mixed lines, consisting of both curves and angles 




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FIG. 36.— THE RAPE OF THE SABINES. N. POUSSIN. 

See pages 46, 75, 87. 



though often angularity alone is attributed to them, he 
says : " If it be necessary to represent a terrible idea, — 
for instance that of the last judgment, . . . such sub- 
jects demand lines vehement, impetuous, and moving. 
Michael Angelo covers the wall of the Sistine chapel with 
contrasting and flamboyant lines. Poussin torments and 
twists his in the pictures of * Pyrrhus Saved' and 'The 
Sabines ' (Fig. 36, page 75), and the linear modes employed 



j6 PAINTING, SCULPTURE, AND ARCHITECTURE. 



by these masters are examples of the law to be followed, 
that of bringing back with decision to their dominant 
character the whole of the great lines, that is to say, the 
first means of expression, arrangement." 

" In the ancient Greek sculptures," says Lang in his "Art, 
its Laws, and the Reasons for Them," " a correspondence 

between the disposition of 
the figure and the sentiment 
of the subject will always 
be found. . . . Minerva's 
position being perpendicu- 
lar and her drapery descend- 
ing in long uninterrupted 
lines [Fig. 37, page 76, also 
Fig. 19, page 47], while a 
thousand amorous curves 
embrace the limbs of Flora 
and Venus [see Figs. 38, 
page yy ; 20, page 48 ; and 
149, page 224], the plain, 
the simple, the dignified, 
and the intellectual being 
the sentiment of the one ; 
the light, the gay, and the 
sensual the sentiment of the 
other. And if the senti- 
ment which animates them 
be of a very exciting and 
passionate character, the movements become more quick 
and the forms more angularized " — a statement which, as 
will be made clear in a moment, includes, as this word 
usually does when thus used, more than the mere idea of 
angles. " It is in obedience to this principle," he goes 




FIQ. 37.— ATHENA OF THE CAPITOL. 
See pages 76, 224, 281. 



GRADATION IN THE OUTLINES OF SHAPES. 



77 



on to say, " that Raphael acted when, in his cartoon of 
'The Delivery of the Keys to St. Peter,' he employed, 
as did the sculptor of Minerva, the 
influence of simple forms," i. c, sim- 
ple as distinguished from mixed, 
" to express and produce the senti- 
ment of the character introduced 
and the natural effects of that 
scene ; and the same too in the 
Ananias (see Fig. 39, page 79) 
among the figures distributing and 
receiving alms, whilst, in obedience 
to this rule, he has resorted to the 
adverse system of angular forms and 
abrupt contrasts," i. e., to mixed 
lines, curved and straight, '< to por- 
tray distress and convulsion in the 
dying man, and astonishment and 
dismay in the figures that imme- 
diately surround him." So, too, 
an application of the same general 
principles is made in these words of 
an unnamed writer quoted by Barry 
in the " Lectures of the Royal 
Academicians " : " In the Laocoon 
[Fig. 21, page 49], the convex lines 
predominate and the forms are 
angular, as well where they indent 
or fall in as where they swell out, fig. 38.-venus de» medici. 
by which means the agitation of the See P a S es 76, 138, 142, 223, 

• c " 1 » 225, 28l. 

expression is manifested. 

Simple imitation, even aside from any desire to repre- 
sent, will usually cause a close observer to regard 




yS PAINTING, SCUIPTC/RE, AND ARCHITECTURE. 

these principles when depicting natural scenery or 
human figures ; but they are equally applicable when 
constructing buildings. The most ordinarily accepted 
classification made of the different styles of these is 
according to their bridging of openings or spaces 
by straight lines, curves, or angles, which three methods 
are supposed to indicate the differences between the 
architecture of the Greek horizontal entablature, of the 
Byzantine or Romanesque round arch, and of the Gothic 
pointed arch. 1 But notice that straight lines abound in all 
these forms, the horizontal ones in Greek architecture 
being no more prominent than the vertical ones in Gothic 
architecture. It is well to observe, too, that of all archi- 
tecture appealing to the emotions the latter does this in 
the most powerfully effective way, for the reason not 
often noticed that in it alone is it possible to blend all 
the possibilities of outline. Sometimes there are no 
curved forms at all in Greek buildings, see Fig. 12, page 30. 
Sometimes, too, there are no sharp forms in Byzantine 
or the allied Romanesque buildings. See Fig. 40, page 
80, also Fig. 15, page 37. But in Gothic buildings there 
is invariably a blending of both. Moreover, as if also to 
emphasize the existence of both, each form is developed 
to excess, the curves being made particularly round and 
the angles particularly sharp. See Fig. 41, page 81, also 
Fig. 220, page 392. 

Now what is the architectural significance of a predomi- 
nance of each of these methods of bringing outlines to- 
gether, namely, through curves, through angles, or through 
both in combination ? Is this difficult to determine ? To 
begin with, what is the shape most instinctively produced 
by the creatures below man, when they indulge in con- 

1 See note at bottom of page 378. 




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80 PAIN - TING, SCULPTURE, AND ARCHITECTURE. 

struction ? What is the shape of ant-hills, birds' nests, or 
beavers' dams? What is the shape of that which a man 
constructs in the forest when he breaks off the limbs of 
the trees, and, binding them together, builds himself 
something in which to sleep ? Rounded, curved, is it not ? 
The huts represented in Chapter XX. of this book are all 
symmetrical, and so would be recognized at once as pro- 
ducts of man ; but which of them should we be most 




FIQ. 40. -OLD PICTURE OF ST. SOPHIA, CONSTANTINOPLE. 
See pages 78 82, 86, 380. 

likely to imagine to have been constructed by some more 
intelligent animal ? Would it not be those in Fig. 2 1 2 page 
379. And which should we first recognize as the products 
of a man ? Would it not be those in Fig. 208, page 374, and 
Fig. 214, page 383, and this because of the use made in them 
of straight lines and angles ? The same principle holds good 
with reference to buildings of a more elaborate character; 
though it must not be overlooked that, in the degree in 
which any forms are artificially elaborated they come to 




FIG. 41— COLOGNE CATHEDRAL— FAQADE. 

See pages 35, 52, 78, 82, 84, 86, 323, 380, 405. 



82 PAINTING, SCULPTURE, AND ARCHITECTURE. 

have complex and therefore (see page 1 1) stronger emotive 
effects. But, as applied to the predominating or germinal 
shapes in such buildings, is it not true that the impression 
conveyed by any rounded arch, as in a bridge for instance, 
is that the small stones available have been made to span 
the space under it in accordance with a natural law which 
needs only to be perceived by the builder in order to be 
instinctively fulfilled by him ? And if this be so, is it not 
logical to infer that all such forms can cause one to asso- 
ciate their appearance with a fulfilment of natural law ? 
Do not their curved outlines make Figs. 40, 43, and even 
41 look as if, according to natural law, they grew into shape 
in a sense not true of Fig. 42 ? Possibly, therefore, there 
is a reason why rounded doorways, as in Fig. 15, page 37, 
and bending domes, as in Fig. 12, page 35, should have 
seemed to so many in so many different lands appropriate 
to represent not only, as stated on page 38, a place in which 
crowds are expected to gather, but also a centre from which 
emanates the authority of law, either civil, as from a state 
capitol or courthouse, or spiritual, as from a cathedral. 

Again when as in Fig. 42 we find buildings showing no 
such desire to accommodate the methods of construction to 
the requirements of natural law, as is apparent in the round 
arch, but rather a determination, on the part of a man, to 
erect something designed by himself without any special 
regard for these requirements, as is the case wherever we 
see a predominance of straight lines and angles, then is it 
not true, as indicated on page 65, that the impression 
mainly conveyed is that of a form due to human reflection ? 
Moreover, if, in connection with this general impression, 
the predominating lines be horizontal, and the angles flat, 
so as to produce, so far as angles can, an effect of horizon- 
tality, is it not true that, combined with the seriousness 




£3 



FIQ. 42— THE RUSSIAN CHURCH AT PARIS. 
See pages 82, 84, 86, 323. 



84 PAINTING, SCULPTURE, AND ARCHITECTURE. 



and dignity suggested by straight lines, they rep- 
resent repose ? No- 
tice the general effect 
of the horizontal enta- 
blatures, window-caps 
or string-courses in 
Fig. 14, page 36, Fig. 
192, page 345; Fig. 197, 
page35o,Fig. 198, page 
35 r, and Fig. 203, page 
365. If, on the con- 
trary, the predomina- 
ting lines be vertical, 
and the angles, by be- 
ing sharp, aid the effect 
of verticality, is it not 
true that, combined 
with the seriousness 
and dignity suggested 
by straight lines, they 
represent elevation of 
soul or aspiration ? 
See Figs. 24, page 52 ; 
2 5, page 53 ; 41, page 
81 ; 42, page 83 ; and 
43> P a S e 84. Observe 
also what a close re- 
semblance there is be- 
tween the general ef- 
fect of the trees in Fig. 
44, page 85, and of the 
fiq. 43.— interior of beverley minster, columns and ceiling in 

ENGLAND. -p. « 

See pages 32, 82, 84, 380, 388, 399, 405. l & 43> P a g e 4- 





.85 FIQ. 44.— AVENUE OF PALMS AT RIO DE JANEIRO. 

See pages 32, 73 84, 399, 403. 



86 PAINTING, SCULPTURE, AND ARCHITECTURE. 

Once more, when we look at buildings in which the 
curves as well as straight lines are prominent, as in Fig. 
43, page 84 ; or in which curves, straight lines and angles, 
all three, are prominent, as in Fig. 41, page 81 (notice the 
long curve from base to spire in its general contour), can 
we not perceive a more aesthetic emotive effect than in a 
building in which, as in Fig. 42, page 83, the curves are 
greatly subordinated ? And in buildings in which either 
curves, angles, or straight lines are combined in excess 
of what are needed, as is often the case in both Greek 
and Gothic architecture, where columns, entablatures, or 
arches, are introduced and are all shaped alike evidently 
for the purpose of ornament alone, and to enhance, by 
way of correspondence, the appearance of artistic unity, 
then is it not true that the forms represent a special ap- 
peal to the aesthetic emotions ? See Figs. 14, page 36 ; 15, 
page 37; 40, page 80; and 41 page 81. Does not Ruskin 
in the following, taken from his " Lectures on Architecture 
and Painting," refer to an effect which we feel to be ascrib- 
able to all such forms of architecture, but especially, per- 
haps for reason given on page 78, to the Gothic ? " I do 
not speak," he says, u of your scenery. I do not ask you 
how much you feel that it owes to the grey battlements 
that frown through the woods of Craig Millar, to the 
pointed turrets that flank the front of Holyrood, or to 
the massy keeps of your Crichtown and Boothwick and 
other border towns, but look merely through your poetry 
and romances ; take away out of your border ballads 
the word tower whenever it occurs, and the ideas con- 
nected with it, and what will become of the ballads? 
See how Sir Walter Scott cannot even get through a 
description of Highland scenery without helps from 
the idea : 

' Each purple peak, each flinty spire.' 



GRADATION IN THE OUTLINES OF SHAPES. 87 

That strange and thrilling" interest with which such words 
strike you as are in any wise connected with Gothic archi- 
tecture, as for instance, vault, arch, spire, pinnacle, 
battlement, porch, and myriads of such others — words 
everlastingly poetical and powerful wherever they occur — 
is a most true and certain index that the things them- 
selves are delightful to you, and will ever continue to 
be so." 

In this chapter, examining the two methods through 
which a line moving in one direction is made to pass into 
another direction, we have found that the continuity of 
the curve suggests the physically instinctive, natural, or 
normal, the result of unconstrained expression in man, or 
of unresisted growth in nature ; and that the straight line 
bent into an angle suggests the mentally reflective, arti- 
ficial, or super-normal, the result of enforced contrivance 
in man or of external force in nature ; while both methods 
mixed suggest an emotive influence exerted or ex- 
perienced. This influence seems greatest in the degree 
in which the mixture is greatest, and may indicate, ac- 
cording to the character of the forms represented, either 
physical excitation, as in Fig. 36, page 75 ; or fanciful, as 
in complicated ornamentation. In the degree in which 
the mixture is least, and the forms are most nearly simple, 
the emotive excitation seems least, inclining toward the 
instinctive and natural, if manifested chiefly in long unin- 
volved curves, and toward the reflective and rational, if 
chiefly in straight lines and angles (see page 66). Closely 
corresponding to these respective emotive effects, as is 
evident, are those to be considered in the next chapter, 
though it must not be thought that either mixture or 
curvature is necessarily irregular, or that either simplicity 
or straightness with angles is necessarily the opposite. 



CHAPTER VI. 

REGULARITY IN OUTLINES: RADIATION, PARALLELISM, 
CIRCLES, AND OVALS. 

Regularity as Applied to Sizes and Shapes — Frame work of Lines on which 
Art-Products are Constructed — How this Accords with the Require- 
ments of Nature in General, as in Radiation or Central-Point — As in 
Setting — As in Parallelism — Also with the Requirements of Individual 
Objects in Nature — This Framework Accords with the Requirements 
both of Mental Conception and Material Appearances — Significance of" 
Regularity and Irregularity in Representations of the Mind — Of Ex- 
ternal Natural Phenomena — Blending of Regularity and Irregularity in 
the Human Form and Face — As judged by an Ideal Framework — Its Ver- 
tical Lines — Its Horizontal Lines — Facial Regularity does not Involve 
Sameness — Slight Departures from it not Inconsistent with a Degree of 
Beauty — Great Departures Allowable for the Sake of Expression or 
Contrast — Necessity of Considering Differences and Deviations in Regu- 
larity Especially as Manifested in the Innate and Assumed Appearances 
of Men. 

'THE significance of the gradations of curvature or 
angularity through which outlines are made to 
describe shapes, cannot be fully understood except in con- 
nection with the next way in which they have been said 
to be made representative, namely, regularity. This is a 
result, primarily, of like effects produced by measurements, 
just as in poetry and music it is a result of like effects 
produced by measures. As outlines surround both spaces 
and shapes, these like effects may be produced by resem- 
blances either in the one or in the other. For instance, if, 
in a door, a square panel alternate with a circular one, 



REGULARITY IN OUTLINES. 89 

and the opposite sides of the square be the same distance 
apart as those of the circle, i. r., if the diameters of both 
figures have the same measurements, then men consider 
this arrangement an illustration of regularity, though the 
likeness is in the spaces occupied not in the shapes occu- 
pying them ; or, if in a human face there be the same dis- 
tance or measurement between the hair of the forehead 
and the eyes, and between the eyes and the nostrils, and 
between the nostrils and the chin, men say that the 
features, so far as this fact can make them so, are regular, 
though there is likeness only in spaces not in shapes. 
But the term is applied sometimes to shapes alone. 
When each part of a curve or angle, as in an arch over a 
window, bears the same relations to the whole, that each 
part of another curve or angle bears to another whole, 
which nevertheless occupies less space ; or when one part 
of a curve or an angle is like another part of the same curve 
or angle, as is sometimes the case with the curve over the 
eyebrows ; or is related in the same way to some third fea- 
ture, as the eyebrows are to the nose, — in these cases, 
too, because the mere shapes are alike, there is said to 
be regularity. 

As manifested in the arts of sight, this characteristic is 
as important to the general effects of proportion as it is 
in the arts of sound to the general effects of rhythm. For 
this reason the art-forms of paintings and statues, as well 
as of buildings, are usually constructed on a framework of 
lines. These lines, first of all, divide up the whole space 
to be covered into equal parts. Afterwards, upon the 
lines or between them, are arranged the prominent shapes 
such as the branches, sides, or tops of the same or of 
different trees, the ridges or edges of the same or of dif. 
ferent hills or clouds, the banks or channels of the same 



90 PAINTING, SCULPTURE, AND ARCHITECTURE. 

or of different streams, and the limbs or other members of 
the same or of different men or animals. The effects of 
such lines are clearly traceable in Figs. 18, page 45, and 
33, page 69 ; and they may be seen actually drawn in Figs. 
46, page 96 ; 47, page 97 ; 48, page 97 ; and 49, page 98. 
The simplest and most convenient form for this kind of 
a framework consists, of course, of parallel lines that are 
horizontal or vertical ; but men often use, too, curves and 
angles. Curved outlines are most regular when they form 
a circle, and, whether they do this or not, they are 
usually described about lines radiating from a centre. 
See Figs. 46 page 96; and 48, page 97. Angular outlines 
are most regular when they form a square, but they often 
necessitate diagonal straight lines as in Fig. 49 page 98, 
and as would be the case in a framework prepared for the 
left lower'picture in Fig. 45, page 93. 

Before going on, it will correspond with what has been 
done throughout this volume, to point out that this 
framework thus constructed for the purposes of art ac- 
cords with the physical conditions underlying all sight, 
and, therefore, with the suggestions if not requirements 
of nature. 

For reasons given on page 63, these suggestions must be 
manifested in nature mainly, though not exclusively, 
through the use of curves. Let us first consider here, 
therefore, a framework suitable for these. As shown in 
Chapters X. and XI. of " The Genesis of Art-Form," radi- 
ation, or, as this is there termed, central-point, which, ideally 
if not really, is essential to constructing shapes with cir- 
cular outlines, is merely a development — sometimes, as is 
the case with many effects in art, an excessive develop- 
ment — of the natural fact that an object in the extreme 
distance is always related to an object nearer us in such a 



REGULARITY IN OUTLINES. 9 1 

way that, if there were parallel lines drawn between the 
two, and extended far enough into space, such lines would 
meet in the distance and form a point. For instance, to 
one looking down a long street, or the tracks of a railway, 
the lines formed by the sidewalks and foundations and 
roofs of the houses, if they be of equal height, or of the 
two or more tracks of the railway, all converge in the dis- 
tance, and, though not actually meeting, suggest that 
they would meet, could a man see far enough. The point 
where, if extended, they would meet, is what the painter 
calls the vanishing point, and if he wishes to be mathe- 
matically exact in determining the sizes of his figures as 
represented at a certain distance, he will do so by drawing 
converging lines from the top, bottom, and sides of a like 
figure in the foreground, and making these, where they 
cross the place in which the figure is to be represented, 
measure the height and breadth. This principle, as ap- 
plied to art, is the basis of the laws of linear perspective ; 
and is amply illustrated in the right upper corner of Fig. 
168, page 297. When carried out in a painting they make 
all the objects represented appear to sustain the same re- 
lations to one another as in nature ; and they also make 
these objects sustain subordinate relations to one object 
of interest which, being in front of the vanishing point 
from which all the lines ideally radiate, necessarily sug- 
gests that everything is pointing toward it. Notice an 
artistic adaptation of this effect in the arms pointing to 
the central figures in Fig. 8, page 31. 

But besides having this central-point of radiation, and 
therefore of principal importance, all views in nature have 
outlines which form a setting for this centre, outlines often 
dim and vague because of their distance from the vanish- 
ing-point ; yet they at least make clear the place where 



92 PAINTING, SCULPTURE, AND ARCHITECTURE. 

the range of vision, as well as the lines of radiation, are 
brought to an end. It is interesting to notice, too, that 
the extreme limits of these outlines, as in those of the 
horizon and zenith, not only, but also in the contour of 
any field of vision that can be comprehended in a single 
glance of the eye, are necessarily circular. 

Once more, in addition to a vanishing point which is a 
centre of radiation, and outlines that give this a setting, 
every view of nature has a horizon line, and with this 
usually a large number of lines parallel to it, described, if in 
a sea view, by the caps of the waves ; if in a land view, by 
the bank-lines of rivers, by the tops of forests, by the 
ridges of hills, or by the snow-lines of mountains. All 
such views necessarily include, too, parallel upright 
directions taken by the trunks of trees and plants, not to 
speak of the necessary parallelism wherever stand human 
beings, or their buildings. See Figs. 18, page 45 ; and 33, 
page 69. 

Similar methods are exemplified also in the arrange- 
ments by which the features of particular forms in nature 
are related. Whether we study the veinings of a leaf, or 
the branches of a tree, the adjustment of the nerves, veins, 
or muscles of any living creature, or of the hands, feet, 
and limbs of a man, we find in all a tendency toward radi- 
ation. Sometimes the limbs on each side of a tree 
diverge from a point in its trunk ; sometimes, apparently, 
from a point on the opposite side of the tree from that 
on which they are situated. As illustrated in Fig. 48, 
page 160, of " The Genesis of Art-Form," there are any 
number of places where ideally the centres of radiation 
may be ; but that they are somewhere, the slightest exam- 
ination will usually reveal. To such an extent at least is 
this true, that no one can question the statement that the 



REGULARITY IN OUTLINES. 



93 



limbs of almost all plants and animals, each in a way 
peculiar to itself, have a tendency to radiate from the 
body to which they belong. 

So, too, there is a tendency to curvature of contour 
where these lines end, and, in connection with both radi- 
ation and curved contours, a tendency to parallelism. In 
some trees, branches that 
begin by radiating become 
parallel soon, and continue 
so to their ends. In others, 
as in pines, parallelism seems 
to take the place of radia- 
tion altogether ; and al- 
though radiation has been 
said to be exemplified in 
the arrangements of the 
nerves and muscles in the 
bodies of men and animals, 
nevertheless the arms, legs, 
fingers, toes, claws, as well 
as the two limiting sides of 
these separate members, and 
of the body as a whole, fur- 
nish examples of parallelism, 
which all the features on either side of a common middle, 
whether in the trunk of an animate or inanimate object, 
balance one another, illustrates symmetry? No people, 
perhaps, apply the methods thus described more artisti- 
cally than the Japanese, though often represented as 
ignoring them. Notice proofs of this in all four composi- 
tions in Fig. 45, reduced from " Fine Art Pictures," a 
Tokyo publication, by Katsugaro Yenouge. 

1 All these art-methods are explained in " The Genesis of Art-Form." 




FIG. 45.-JAPANESE COMPOSITIONS. 
See pages 90, 93. 

As a rule, too, the way in 



94 PAINTING, SCULPTURE, AND ARCHITECTURE. 

The facts thus stated will show us that, whether 
applied to one figure or to a collection of figures, the 
framework, ideally or really underlying effects of reg- 
ularity, represents, as do all the other factors of art, that 
which is required by the conditions not only of mental 
conception but also of material appearance. Now let us 
consider the representative characteristics of different de- 
grees of regularity. The best way of starting to do this, 
will be to recall, for a moment, the conclusion reached on 
page 60 with reference to the outlines supposed to have 
been drawn on paper at hap-hazard. To the assertion 
there made, that the less thought bestowed on them the 
more likely they are to describe curves, we may add here 
that the more likely they are also to separate spaces or to 
describe shapes, — whether by curves or angularly turned 
straight lines, — which bend or point in many different direc- 
tions, and in this sense are irregular. Of course, the con- 
verse, too, is true. The more thought bestowed on them, 
the more likely they are to manifest that sort of resem- 
blance between spaces or shapes which underlies effects 
of regularity. This is the same as to say that the in- 
stinctive tendency leads to irregularity, and the re- 
flective to the opposite. It follows, too (page 11) that 
the quality of the emotive tendency — as impelled without 
thought, or with it — represents itself (with special force 
here, see pages 22, 60, 96), whenever the other tendencies, 
as is usually the case, either blend or act alternately. 

If, with these inferences in mind, we examine, for a 
moment, the actual appearances about us, we shall have 
no difficulty in finding analogous conditions indicated in 
them. The impression that we most instinctively form of 
nature, so far as man has not touched it, is that of irreg- 
ularity. As a rule, this and nothing else is what moun- 



REGULARITY IN OUTLINES. 95 

tains, valleys, rocks, lakes, whether we consider their out- 
lines or arrangements, seem to us to illustrate. For this 
reason, in a thoroughly successful painting of nature, the 
contours of hills, dales, rivers, foliage, and the forms of 
animals and men are never arranged along the lines of 
a framework with a too inflexible regard for such charac- 
teristics as radiation, parallelism, or balance ; or, if they 
be, these methods are concealed so as not to be recogniz- 
able without study. Notice Figs. 18, page 45, and 33, 
page 69. Otherwise, the result would seem not even 
artistically natural but unnatural and artificial, regularity 
of outline being almost invariably an indication of the 
effects upon natural appearances of the reflective charac- 
teristics of man. This can be exemplified equally from 
landscape gardening and landscape painting. An artist 
especially one of an early historic period, is almost as 
likely to arrange bushes and trees in symmetrical groups, 
if not rows, in the latter art as in the former, provided he 
can find or imagine a view-point from which this can be 
done ; and, when depicting living beings capable of being 
moved about, he is sure to arrange them thus. Even in 
most imitative paintings, he sometimes changes the out- 
lines of hills and valleys, or, if he cannot do this, he intro- 
duces regularity through the use of color. When it comes 
to architecture, where he is left free to design the whole 
appearance, regularity is always the main characteristic. 
But how is it about a combination of irregularity with 
regularity ? Do we ever find this, and, if so, what does it 
indicate ? For an answer, let us look at nature once more. 
There we shall notice that, though inanimate objects, like 
mountains, rocks, and lakes, mainly manifest irregularity, 
other objects, and always in the degree in which they 
approach animate existence, or are themselves higher 



96 PAINTING, SCULPTURE, AND ARCHITECTURE. 

developments of it, manifest regularity also. The out- 
lines of plants, trees, leaves, flowers, fruits, tend to sym- 
metry. So still more do those of animals, and the most 
symmetrical of all forms which, at the same time, mani- 
fests great irregularity, is that of man. But his is exactly 




FIQ. 46 —FIGURE DIVIDED BY LINES. 
See pages go, 97, 98. 

the form that is fitted to make the strongest appeal to our 
combined instinctive and reflective, in other words, to our 
emotive nature. 

It seems necessary in this place, therefore, to say some- 
thing about the representative possibilities of the human 
form ; and of this, first, as determined by the blending in 



REGULARITY IN OUTLINES. 



97 




FIG. 47— FRONT FACE 



it of regularity and irregularity. This latter, as we know, 

when it exists by itself alone, with nothing to counteract 
it, is confusing and therefore disagree- 
able ; and the mind associates ugliness 
with it rather than beauty. How this 
effect can be avoided, by introducing 
regularity in spite of irregularity, is a 
broad and complex question ; but 
enough can be said of it here to indi- 
cate the principle involved. Recalling 
that by regularity in a figure, is meant 
its capability of being divided by paral- 
divided by lines. lei, horizontal, or vertical lines into like 

See pages 90,97, 98, 101. space-measurements, or, else, by the out- 
lines of circles, ovals, squares, rectangles, 

or rhomboids, into like shape-measurements, let us examine 

Figs. 46, 47, 48. and 49, all of them produced by drawing 

lines through or about figures found in " Putnam's Hand- 
book of Drawing." 

Notice, first, how the 

whole space occupied 

by the form in Fig. 

46, page 96, and by 

the faces in Figs. 47 

and 48, page 97, and 

by the eye and ear in 

Fig. 49, page 98, is 

divided intolikeparts 

by parallel lines either 

horizontal, vertical, or 

diagonal. It is the 

fact that they occupy like spaces which, for reasons to be 

given in the essay on " Proportion and Color in Painting, 





FIG. 48.— SIDE FACE DIVIDED BY LINES. 
See pages 90, 97, 98. 



98 



PAINTING, SCULPTURE, AND ARCHITECTURE. 



Sculpture, and Architecture," is the main element causing 
features to be, as men say, in proportion. Notice also how, 
as related to shape, the general arrangement of the features 
is made to conform to the directions of the straight lines, 
as manifested, first, in the same inclination given to the 
ear and nose in Fig. 48, page 97, a requirement which 
the Greeks, notwithstanding their keenness of observation, 
seem often to have disregarded ; and, second, in the gen- 
eral outlines of the hair on the forehead, and of the eye-, 
brows, eyes, nostrils, and mouth, as in Fig. 47, page 97. 
Besides this, notice the radiating lines 
in Fig. 48, page 97 ; also, in Fig. 47, page 
97, the impression of regularity and, so 
far as this can impart it, of beauty con- 
nected with the combination of the cir- 
cle and the oval in the general egg-like 
contour of the head and countenance. 
Finally, the circles drawn about the 
form — not wholly satisfactory — in Fig. 
46, page 96,will reveal the presence of an- 
other phase of regularity, even to those 
who, as applied in this particular case, 
do not understand exactly what it is. 
Very little thought, too, will cause us to recognize that 
these lines represent lines which we actually draw in 
imagination, and with which, thus drawn, we actually com- 
pare the features of the figure and face whenever we form 
an estimate of relative beauty or ugliness. When, for in- 
stance, a person is facing us, it is almost impossible not to 
suppose an imaginary vertical straight line drawn from the 
middle of his forehead to the middle of his chin, as in 
Fig. 47, page 97 ; and if we find this line passing through 
the middle of his nose, we obtain an impression of regu- 




FIG. 49.- EYE AND EAR. 
See pages go, 97. 



REGULARITY IN OUTLINES. 



99 




FIQ. 50. 

MEPHISTOPHELES. 

See pages ioo, 118 

170, 176, 178. 



larity, which, so far as concerns it alone, is an aid to the 
agreeableness and consequent beauty of the effect ; but, 
^a in the degree in which the middle of 

the nose is out of this vertical line, not 
only irregularity but ugliness is sug- 
gested. 

Again, a similar tendency causes us 
to suppose other imaginary vertical 
straight lines, drawn, as in the same 
figure, at equal distances to either side 
of this central line, and from them we 
may gain an impression of relative regu- 
larity by noticing to what extent they 
pass through corresponding sides of the 
face. Besides this, we are prompted 
to suppose horizontal lines drawn, as indicated in the 
same figure, across the forehead, eyes, and mouth, and 
to form judgments from them too with reference to the 
degrees of regularity. It is important 
to notice, also, that we form these judg- 
ments in accordance with the principle 
of correspondence. When, as in these 
cases, opposite features of the counte- 
nance appear to be in exact balance, 
inasmuch as it is outlined by a frame- 
work that is exactly straight or rectan- 
gular, the external arrangement is satis- 
factory because it seems representative 
of something internal that is satisfac- 
tory ; in other words, because we asso- 
ciate these physical conditions with cor- 
related ones that are mental and moral. 




FIQ. 51. 
CONTEMPT AND ANGER. 
See pages 100, 118, 

181, 182, 183, 184, 

185, 189. 



Because the face 



is square, we judge that the character is square. 



IOO PAINTING, SCULPTURE, AND ARCHITECTURE. 



For instance, Mephistopheles on the stage is always 
painted with the arch of the eyebrows not in line with the 
horizontal, but beginning high up on the temples and 
running downward toward the bridge of the nose, see Fig. 
50, page 99. This is the way, too, for reasons given in 
Chapter XVII., in which even a handsome man looks 
when contracting his brows under the influence of arro- 
gance, pride, contempt, hatred, and most of all, of malice, 
see Fig. 51, page 99. With a similar general effect of ir- 
regularity, a simpleton on the stage is painted with nostrils 
and lips the sides of which exaggerate the expression of the 

smile by running too far 
up at the sides, as in Fig. 
52; and a scold with 
the sides of the same 
features exaggerating 
the expression of the 
sneer and frown by run- 
ning too far down. No- 
tice Fig. 51, page 99. 
It must not be supposed, however, that countenances, 
in order to meet the requirements of regularity, need to 
be similar. In its way, a dog's face may be as regular as 
a man's ; and there is no reason why one human face 
should not be as regular as another, though both differ 
almost radically. Of course, this could not be the case, 
if by regularity were meant conformity to a certain Greek 
type, which, as must be confessed, is the generally 
accepted supposition. Regularity, however, need not 
mean this ; but only a condition in which the general 
outlines sustain analogous relations to lines or spaces of 
like directions or measurements. And there may be many 
different forms of which this can be affirmed, all corre- 





FIG. 52.— LAUGHING AND SMILING. 
See pages 100, 183, 184. 



REGULARITY IN OUTLINES. 



IOI 



sponding in principle though not in the method of apply- 
ing it. For instance, none of the spaces in Figs. 53 to 
57, pages 101 to 103, are divided as in the Greek type, 
which was evidently intended to be represented by the 
one who originally drew Fig. 47, page 97. Nor are all 
the faces in these figures divided alike. Yet all are 
divided according to what, in the essay on " Proportion 
and Color in Painting, Sculpture, and Architecture," will 
be shown to be the principles of proportion. For this 
reason, when, as is probable, nine 
tenths of all Americans tell us 
that they consider these faces, 
more beautiful than any con- 
forming to the Greek type, they 
may be justified. According to 
the laws of form, properly in- 
terpreted, such faces fulfil the 
principles of proportion. But, 
besides this, according to the 
laws of significance, as derived 
from our association with faces 
of the ordinary American type, 
from our deductions with ref- 
erence to the characteristics 
manifested by them, and from our sympathy with the 
persons possessing such characteristics, it is perfectly in 
accordance with aesthetic principles (see Chapter XIII. of 
"Art in Theory ") to say that, while as beautiful in form 
as are the Greek faces, their beauty, to one of the race 
and country to which they belong, is enhanced on account 
of its significance. 

Nor, even when forms do not fulfil, as these presum- 
ably do, the germinal principles of proportion, must it be 




FIQ. 53.— FACIAL DIVISIONS. 
See page 101. 



102 PAINTING, SCULPTURE, AND ARCHITECTURE. 




FIG. 54 —FACIAL DIVISIONS. 
See page 101. 



supposed that they are necessarily ugly. As shown in 
Chapter XVI. of " The Genesis of Art-Form," there is 

sometimes a departure from the 
regularity of uniformity by regu- 
lar degrees or gradations, which, 
of themselves, cause regularity 
in spite of difference. It is pos- 
sible that the same principle, un- 
consciously applied, may miti- 
gate the irregularity of effect in 
a human figure or countenance. 
A forehead, for instance, might 
be as much higher than the nose 
is long as this is than the length 
of the space between the nostrils 
and the chin ; and such an ar- 
rangement might produce some 
impression of regularity, though with it, of course, there 
would be conveyed a stronger impression of the relative 
prominence of the characteristics 
indicated by the high forehead. 

This statement suggests an im- 
portant principle of art which needs 
to be noted here. It is that, some- 
times, certain requirements of form 
have to be waived for the sake of 
significance. We all are acquainted 
with this fact as applied to paintings 
or statues containing two or more 
figures. We often see one of these 
made positively irregular and ugly, 
in order to offset, and thus enhance, 
the regularity and beauty of the others. This is done, for 




FIG. 55.-FACIAL DIVISIONS. 
See page 101. 



REGULARITY IN OUTLINES. 



I03 




FIQ.56— FACIAL DIVISIONS. 
See page 101. 



instance, in Raphael's " St. Margaret " and " St. Michael," 
Fig. 58, p. 104. But the same principle is applicable not 
^..__~ : — _^ only to groups of faces or figures, but, 

in each of them, to groups of features. 
Irregularities in certain of these, if 
not too pronounced, though they 
may be altogether too decided to 
render possible any method of sup- 
posing them to be regular, may add 
at times not only to the interest, 
but even to the charm of the form 
in which they appear. Like the 
stronger shading of a line or color 
that enlarges the apparent condition 
of a factor for the purpose of 
emphasizing it, or of taking emphasis from some other 
adjacent factor, they may thrust upon attention that 
which thus interprets the meaning of the whole, and 
renders it in the highest sense repre- 
sentative. The expression of mere in- 
dividuality alone necessitates having no 
two forms or faces in the world exactly 
alike. Yet thousands of them may be 
equally beautiful; and tens of thou- 
sands, though not equally beautiful, 
may be equally attractive ; while, to the 
student of humanity, none can fail to 
be interesting. 

If this be so, the subject that we 
have been considering cannot be satis- 
factorily ended without some discussion 
of the general representative meanings of the differences 
and deviations in regularity which are possible to the 

















. 


ksP* ' "T 
























csSb& ^ " 








ftH Bps^ 




:i> 





FIQ. 57. 
FACIAL DIVISIONS. 

See page 101. 



104 PAINTING, SCULPTURE, AND ARCHITECTURE. 

human form, including also the meanings of the positions, 
gestures, and facial expressions which it may assume for 




FIQ. 58— ST, MICHAEL OVERCOMING SATAN. RAPHAEL. 
See pages 62, 103, 145, 168. 

special representative purposes. Inasmuch, too, as some 
features of this form are delineated in the vast majority 
of all paintings and statues, such a discussion here is 



REGULARITY IN OUTLINES. 105 

altogether appropriate, even though it may involve re- 
calling, for the purpose of an application to this particular 
question, much that was said in Chapter V. with refer- 
ence to the significance of outlines aside from their regu- 
larity. Moreover, as the human body furnishes that 
appearance in physical nature which is most nearly under 
control of the mind, and, therefore, most clearly represents 
the mind, it is that which can best interpret for us the way 
in which any physical appearance can do the same. 

These reasons, together with the subtle and complicated 
effects to be examined, will sufficiently justify the ex- 
tended discussion of the next four chapters. 



CHAPTER VII. 

REPRESENTATION THROUGH THE NATURAL SHAPES OF 
THE HUMAN BODY: GENERAL PRINCIPLES. 

Importance to Art of the Study of the Meaning of the Shapes and Postures 
of the Human Figure — Sources of Information on this Subject — Rela- 
tion of the Subject to Physical Facts — Meaning of Roundness or Broad- 
ness, Sharpness or Narrowness, and Length — Indicative Respectively of 
the Vital, the Mental, and the Motive Temperaments — Correlation 
between these and the Tendencies of Outline already Considered — The 
Forms Necessitated by the Physiological Conditions Underlying the 
Three — The Vital and Breadth of Form — The Mental or Interpretive 
and Sharpness at the Extremities — Connection between the Vital and 
Mental as Indicated by Length — The Motive or Active and Length of 
Spine and Muscles — The Same Shapes as Interpreted According to the 
Observations of Phrenology — Of Physiognomy — The Round Face — The 
Sharp Face — The Long Face — Of Palmistry — Different Temperaments 
are Usually Blended in All Men — Mental Tendencies Corresponding to 
All the Temperaments Exist in Each — How they are Manifested by the 
Torso and Lower Limbs — By the Hands and Head — In Connection 
with Activity. 

A S indicated at the end of the last chapter, the outlines 
**"*■ which represent thoughts and emotions the most un- 
mistakably are those manifested through the forms and 
movements of human beings. These outlines are made 
representative, too, in many different ways, in each of 
which the slightest change may involve a change in mean- 
ing sufficient to make an otherwise successful human figure, 
as depicted in painting or sculpture, wholly unsuccessful. 

1 06 



REPRESENTATION THROUGH HUMAN SHAPE. 10/ 

Hence the importance of a thorough understanding of 
the subject. 

With reference to it, very fortunately, there has been, 
of late, no lack of study, not only by men approaching it 
from a general view-point like Darwin in his " Expression 
of the Emotions in Men and Animals," but by those who 
have made a more narrow specialty of physiology, physi- 
ognomy, phrenology, palmistry, and gesture. It cannot 
be claimed, of course, that the systems treating of any of 
these subjects have, in many cases, made exact sciences 
of them ; or that the reasons given for the facts observed 
are invariably tenable. At the same time, the conclusions 
reached have been the results of innumerable investiga- 
tions, carefully made by many a shrewd observer ; and 
men whose business it is to represent the human form, or 
to criticise representations of it, cannot afford to ignore 
this fact. Nothing, indeed, can be more inexcusable than 
the outlines of the faces, heads, hands, trunks, and limbs, 
with which many otherwise accurate artists imagine them- 
selves to be depicting a person of a certain temperament 
or tendency ; or the postures and gestures through which 
they suppose themselves to be causing him to give ex- 
pression to certain typical thoughts or feelings. It cannot 
be without profit, therefore, for us to attempt, with the 
aid of what can be learned from sources such as have been 
mentioned, and following no one authority slavishly, to 
consider the human form, and to find out and to state as 
concisely as practicable, the conditions that seem to be 
represented by the different aspects and attitudes which, in 
certain cases, it may assume. 

It will be logical for us to begin by noticing the relation 
to our subject of facts having to do merely with phy- 
sique. Moses True Brown, in his excellent work on " The 



1 08 PAIN TING, SCULPT URE, A ND A R CHI TECT URE. 

Synthetic Philosophy of Expression," quotes with com- 
ments of his own, the physiologist, Alexander, as saying 
that on the breadth of the cerebral organs depends their 
permanence, and on their length their intensity. Another 
whose ability to interpret the meaning of the human 
shape was in his day surpassed by none, Mr. O. S. 
Fowler, the phrenologist, tells us in his " Self-In- 
structor," that " spherical forms are naturally self-pro- 
tecting. Roundness protects its possessor. So all round 
built animals are strong-constitutioned " — in other words, 
*' breadth" as he terms it, " indicates animality " — a state- 
ment which, though it explains nothing, coincides with 
what we have already noticed on page 61, of the connec- 
tion in nature between the curve and the evidences of 
buoyancy and life. " Excitability," he says again, is indi- 
cated by sharpness ; and when he goes on to develop what 
he thus affirms, he shows that by " excitability " he means 
chiefly, if not exclusively, mental excitability. " People 
of this class," he says, are " brilliant writers and speakers," 
putting the adjective in italics. Besides this, too, he also 
makes sharpness characteristic of what he terms the 
" mental " temperament. " Activity," he continues, " is 
indicated by length. Developing what he means by 
activity, he affirms that those of this class are " intellec- 
tual and moral," and that " their characters, unless per- 
verted, like their persons, ascend." 

Of course, while giving due weight to the results of a 
man's experience, there is no need of accepting, in the 
form of a general rule, an assertion like this, to which 
there are so many exceptions that it is no general rule. 
The intellectual, the moral, and the aspiring depend upon 
the quality of that which is behind the outward form. At 
the most, the form can only show the capability of the 




RE PRE SEA 7 TA TION THRO UGH HUM A N SHA PE. 1 09 

man in giving expression to these. Indeed, it would be 
unjust to Fowler not to add that- he himself provides for 
exceptions to his rules by saying that the " primary forms 
and characters," to which we have 
just referred, " usually combine in 
different degrees, producing, of 
course, corresponding differences in 
talents and characteristics. Thus 
eloquence accompanies breadth com- 
bined with sharpness ; some poets are 
broad and sharp [Fig. 59], others 
long and sharp [Fig. 60], but all are 
sharp." Following this prelimina- fig. 59-qoldsmith. 

ry explanation, Fowler gives us the See P a S es I0 9> IX 3, i*5, 

. 117, 119, 124, 187. 

well-known and customary classifi- 
cation of temperaments into the vital, which would be 
manifested by what he means by roundness ; the mental, 
manifested by sharpness ; and the motive, by length. These 
terms have been in use for years, but their meanings are 

not always distinctly under- 
stood ; nor in what sense 
each can be said to be repre- 
sented by a different ten- 
dency of form. Let us, for 
a moment, then, consider 
these questions, as well as 
the way in which the three 
temperaments and the 
shapes manifesting them 
can be correlated to the 
three tendencies of shape 

FIG. 60.— LONGFELLOW- l 

See pages 109, 113, 115, «7, 119, 124. considered in Chapters V. 

and VI. 




IIO PAINTING, SCUIPTURE, AND ARCHITECTURE. 

To begin with, notice that when, as in these chapters, 
we divide shapes into those composed, first, of curves, 
second, of angles with straight lines, and third, of all three 
combined, we are analyzing the methods through which 
an outline of one direction passes into one of another 
direction more accurately than when, in a vague way, we 
divide forms as wholes according to some general effect 
of roundness, sharpness, or length. Notice, too, that, 
while, strictly speaking, the same feature cannot be both 
round and sharp or round and long, it can be both sharp 
and long; that, in fact, it is usually the sharper the longer 
it is, — which of itself, suggests a justification for the con- 
nection between the two which was brought out on page 
56. Notice, finally, that the only unmistakably separated 
conditions are roundness and sharpness, said by Fowler 
to represent, respectively, vitality and mentality. These 
two, therefore, let us consider first ; after that we can con- 
sider the connection between both and length. 

The condition to which the term vital \s given, and which 
we are told is indicated by roundness or breadth, means 
simply a frame so constituted that its controlling element 
seems to have its source in the fact that there is plenty of 
space for the free exercise and development of the organs 
upon which vitality or a sound physique depends. These 
organs are primarily those of digestion and breathing, 
which are situated in the torso. But full, well-rounded 
arms, necks, or heads, for the reason that they naturally 
accompany such a frame, may also, in a partial degree, 
suggest the same condition. 

The condition to which the term mental is given, iden- 
tified by Fowler with excitability, and which is said to 
be indicated by sharpness, means a frame so constituted 
that its controlling element seems to have its source in its 



REPRESENTA TIOiV THROUGH HUMAN SHAPE. 1 1 I 

ability to represent by form and action those more deli- 
cate and subtle shades of expression which render the dis- 
tinctive moods and movements of the mind intelligible. 
Excitability is said by some to be characteristic of men- 
tality, for the very good reason, probably, that the brain 
is the highest development of the nervous system, and 
the nervous system is the source of excitability. But, as 
is sometimes forgotten, the brain may also, as when 
absorbed in thought — and this too when the nerves are 
strongest, — express the fact by refraining from an appear- 
ance of excitement. It is only in the sense of possessing 
a possibility for distinctively mental nervous excitation, 
that it is proper to say that excitability and mentality are 
one. Even clothed in this language, the statement is not 
wholly satisfactory. The nervous system and mentality 
too are both of them really at the basis of all kinds of 
expression, whether of vitality, of activity, or of that 
which we are now considering. Even Fowler while he 
calls this latter " mental, " says, in a quotation already 
given, that it is those of the active or motive temperament 
who are " moral and intellectual." What distinguishes 
the temperament with which we are now dealing from the 
two others, is the fact that in it the form seems to be mainly 
shaped and controlled by forces having to do with the 
communication of thought, which it appears to be all the 
while interpreting. For this reason, it might possibly be 
termed the interpretive temperament. The organs of 
interpretation, that distinguish a man who has highly 
developed mentality from an animal that does not have 
it, are at the extremities of the body ; and it is a fact that 
just as roundness of the torso best represents a well de- 
veloped vital and physical nature, so a shape that, in a 
general way, may be termed sharp, best represents a psy- 



112 PAINTING, SCULPTURE, AND ARCHITECTURE. 

chical nature. All animals have an abdomen and lungs ; 
and many seem to have little else. But in the degree in 
which they have intelligence or interpretive power, the 
organs manifesting this push out from the extremities. 
It is of this that we think, when we see the delicate ten- 
drils of the insects and the play of the ears and tails of 
dogs and horses. Some of the lower forms of life seem 
to have no heads, many have no feet, and, if a few have 
hands, none have either heads or feet or hands that are 
able to do what those of men can. The reason for this, 
too, is that the faces and hands of men — their eyebrows, 
noses, chins, when in repose, and the same features too, as 
well as their eyes, and mouths, and fingers, when in action, 
are much more sharply defined, or capable of assuming 
forms that are, than are the corresponding features in the 
animals. Individual men, too, differ in this regard ; and, 
as a rule, the round, fat, and, for this reason, inflexible 
shape cannot represent thought in the same unmistakable 
way as the one that is sharp, thin, and flexible. Sharpness 
therefore indicates the degree of interpretive mentality. 

Observe now that, when a feature is sharp, it has also 
a certain degree of length. Observe, too, that, according 
to what was said on page 66, length of lines is represen- 
tative of persistency, seriousness, and dignity. But these 
are traits with which we associate both thoughtfulness 
and morality. What more natural then than that length, 
as said by Fowler (see page 108) should be taken to repre- 
sent the " intellectual and moral." But of these two the 
intellectual — which fact will recall what on page 6 1 was 
said of the effects of long straight lines — is connected with 
the mental. How is it with the moral? To find an 
answer to this, notice, first, that as the organs of the vital 
or physical nature are at the centres of the body, and 



REPRESENTATION THROUGH HUMAN SHAPE. 1 1 3 

those of the mental or interpretive are at its extremities, 
the degrees of the length of the organs intervening between 
the two, measure the degrees of the distance between 
them. This being so, does it not follow, according to the 
principles of correspondence, that of. two men having 
equal interpretive mentality, the one whose extremities, 
which are the agents of this, are nearest the vital centres 
will suggest mentality as being more immediately under 
the influence of vital or physical instincts, than will the 
one whose extremities, on account of the length, to say 
nothing of the accompanying strength, of the interven- 
ing organs, are remote from these centres ; and that, 
therefore, the latter man, other things being equal, will 
seem to have the most power to resist his purely physical 
tendencies, or to have, as we say, the most moral power? 
Does not this suggested inference partly explain why most 
of us associate the possession of more moral force with a 
long and sharp face and form like Longfellow's in Fig. 60 
page 109, than w T ith a combination of round and sharp, as 
in Goldsmith, Fig. 59 page 109? Now consider again that 
when we speak of moral force, as thus produced, we refer 
to an effect attendant upon a particular method of blend- 
ing vitality with mentality, or that which is represented 
by degrees of roundness with that which is represented by 
degrees of sharpness. But whenever these are blended at 
all we have, as was shown on pages 1 1, 59, and 60, an emo- 
tive result. The moral as indicated by length, therefore, 
is merely an emotive result in which the mental appears 
stronger than the physical. Accordingly, though the 
terms moral and motive include only a part of what is 
elsewhere in this volume termed emotive, they include 
enough to justify a correlation of them to it. Indeed, as 
applied to action, as is mainly the case when considering 



114 PAINTING, SCULPTURE, AND ARCHITECTURE. 

their effects in the human frame, they include about all of 
it ; for we must not forget that, in dealing with length, we 
are dealing with degrees of it — slight as well as great, — 
and, therefore, with the general topic of the degrees in 
which mentality exercises control over vitality. 

The greatest degree of this control is supposed to be 
indicated by length, because a long frame seems to allow 
the most unlimited scope for the exercise and develop- 
ment — of course under the influence of mind — of the 
organs which are the sources of motion or action. These 
organs are primarily the nerves, the lungs, and the muscles. 
The nerves regulating conscious action are in the cerebro- 
spinal system (page 127). The spine is a feature differenti- 
ated from other features of the body by its length. A long 
spine is usually accompanied by long ribs, and the two to- 
gether give both depth and expanse of chest for the air that 
sustains activity. Such a spine is usually accompanied, too, 
by long limbs, with long muscles. The peculiar function 
of the latter is to pull ; and length best enables them to pull 
effectively. For all these reasons, length seems to indi- 
cate activity, a fact so often noticed that it needs no fur- 
ther illustration. It can be verified by recalling not only 
the forms of the most active men, but also of animals like 
the eel, greyhound, deer, giraffe, and tiger. But, now, a 
man so constituted as to possess great possibilities for 
activity, will be apt to manifest possibilities for self- 
control and persistency in whatever his inward nature 
prompts him to undertake. Self-control gives dignity of 
bearing; and tall men usually possess this. In connection 
with persistency, self-control also gives control of others 
and an ability to survive and overcome opposition. Hence 
the qualities assigned by Fowler, as quoted on page 108, 
to the motive temperament characterized by length. 



REPRESENTATION THROUGH HUMAN SHAPE. 1 I 5 




FIQ. 61. 
PHRENOLOGICALLY DIVIDED HEAD 

See pages 115, 124, 167. 



These suggestions derived from physiology are con- 
firmed by those derived from phrenology and physiog- 
nomy. Fig. 61 contains little to which the most scientific 
physiological psychologist could object. By comparing 

it with the head of the prize- 
fighter, Yankee Sullivan, in Fig. 
62, we can recognize in what 
sense both figures confirm the 
general principle that the round 
or broad face or head — the 
head disproportionately broad 
at the ears — indicates strong 
vital and physical tendencies. 
Comparing Fig. 61 again with 
Figs. 59, page 109, and 60, page 
109, we can recognize in what 
sense the sharp face with the 
pointed nose and lips, especially 
when combined, as it usually is, with prominent and 
sharp, in the sense of irregular, organs in the forehead, 
and wrinkles about the eyes, indicates the essentially 
mental and interpretive organization. 
Once again Fig. 61 will suggest why the 
long face and head, made long mainly by 
rising above the ears and mouth, indicate 
strong motive and moral powers as mani- 
fested by exercising mental control over 
physical conditions. A practical illustra- 
tion of the fact may be noticed in the face 
of Napoleon, Fig. 63, page 116, and also, 

with somewhat shorter and sharper effects, See P a g es TI 5, 119. 
. ,. , . 124. 

indicating a greater tendency to interpre- 
tive mentality, in the face of the theological leader, 
Albert Barnes, Fig. 64, page 1 17. 




FIQ. 62. 
YANKEE SULLIVAN. 



Il6 PAINTING, SCULPTURE, AND ARCHITECTURE. 



The references already made to the eyes and nose show 
that the testimony of physiognomy must be added to that 
of phrenology in order to bring out here all that is neces- 
sary. According to physiognomists, the round, broad 
face most nearly resembles that of most of the less intelli- 
gent animals, like the toad and reptile. It is usually ac- 
companied by the largest jaws and mouth, through which 

food enters the abdomen, in 
order to sustain the vital na- 
ture. It must not be over- 
looked, however, that even 
the mouth is a part of the 
head, for which reason, while 
it gives a vital emphasis, the 
quality to which it gives this 
emphasis may be mental. In- 
deed, it is through the mouth 
that the inaudible processes 
of thought obtain material- 
ization by being converted 
into language. Thus under- 
standing what is meant by 
vitality of emphasis as im- 
parted by this part of the 
face, notice how the follow- 
ing quotations, though not written for any such purpose, 
confirm the general principles that have been unfolded. 
Very large lips, says Mantegazza, in his " Physiognomy 
and Expression," as epitomized in " Werner's Magazine " 
for January and February, 1895, are " almost always com- 
bined with great sensuality " ; and again : " If the eye is 
the most expressive part of the face, the mouth is the 
most sympathetic. The desires of love and the ardors of 
voluptuousness converge about it as their natural centre. 




FIG. 63.— NAPOLEON BONAPARTE. 

See pages 115, 118, 119, 120, 124, 

169, 177, 179. 



REPRESENTATION THROUGH HUMAN SHAPE. 



17 



. . . The eye is the mimetic centre of thought ; the 
mouth is the expressive centre of feeling and sensuality. 
. . . The woman whose eyes inspire us with love, 
makes us enthusiastic, exalts us, throws us into an intel- 
lectual ecstasy ; but she whose mouth fascinates us, clasps 
us in her arms. The eye is the azure heaven to which no 
one may attain ; the mouth is the earth with its perfumes, 
its warmth, and the deep de- 
lights of its fruits." The same 
writer quotes from Herder the 
statement that " the upper lip 
reveals our inclinations, appe- 
tites, affectionatedistress ; pride 
and anger make it curl ; craft 
and cunning make it thin ; good- 
ness bends it ; dissoluteness 
weakens and debases it ; love 
and the passions become incar- 
nate in it with an ineffable 
charm." Lavater in his " Physi- 
ognomy," divides mouths thus: (1) The mouths in which 
the upper lip projects a little (notice that this upper lip 
is nearest the middle of the face where mental and vital 
expressions are most nearly combined, and all expression 
is therefore most nearly emotive) 1 ; this is the distinctive 
mark of goodness, we may therefore call these the senti- 
mental mouths (see Figs. 59 and 60, page 109). (2) The 
mouths in which both lips project equally (notice that 
this effect approaches that of a perpendicular straight 
line (see page 66, also Fig. 64) ; they are to be found in 
honest, sincere men, and may be called the loyal mouths. 
(3) The mouths in which the lower lip projects beyond 
the upper one. This is nearest the part of the face ex- 

1 See pages ir and 121. 




FIG. 64— ALBERT BARNES. 
See pages 115, 117, 118, 124, 

182. 



1 18 PAINTING, SCULPTURE, AND ARCHITECTURE. 

pressive of the physical nature (Figs. 50 and 51, page 99). 
These " may be called irritable mouths." Mantegazza's 
criticism here brings out more clearly the correspondence 
between this last condition and the fact that the lower 
lip is nearest the part of the face expressing the physical 
or vital characteristics. He says : " The extreme pro- 
minence of the upper lip often goes in company with 
scrupulousness ; while, on the contrary, a marked protu- 
berance of the lower lip denotes great firmness of charac- 
ter or obstinacy." He also says, with reference to the 
chin : " It seems to be proved that, all things being equal, 
a strong projection of the chin [Figs. 63 and 64, pages 1 16, 
117] has the same significance as in the lower lip noted 
(five lines) above. It is the ethnical characteristic of the 
English people, who are a strong-willed people." Then he 
quotes Lavater again as follows : " Long experience proves 
to me that a prominent chin always indicates something 
positive, while a retreating chin is always negative in its 
significance." He also quotes from Tomassee's " Moral 
Thoughts " to the effect that " a small chin is a sign of an 
affectionate nature." This is the same as to say that it is 
a sign of absence of wilfulness, which absence is essential 
for a yielding, sympathetic character. " A long, full chin," 
he goes on to say, " is a sign of coldness ; a long, receding 
one, of perspicacity and firmness " (notice in both these 
cases the characteristic, peculiar to the motive tempera- 
ment, of length) ; " and a dimple in the chin (akin to 
the vital or roundness), of more grace of body than of 
soul." 

Now let us turn to the sharp face. This is represented 
by physiognomists as most nearly resembling that of most 
of the more intelligent animals, like the dog, horse, and 
bird. It is usually accompanied by the keenest-looking 



REPRESENTATION THROUGH HUMAN SHAPE. I 1 9 

eyes, and these are centres of nerve-force, the " windows of 
the soul," far better adapted for drawing inferences into 
the mind than food or air into the body. Some of the quo- 
tations already made have included references to the indi- 
cations given by the forehead and eyes. But besides what 
has been said, notice how perfectly Lavater's interpreta- 
tions of the meaning of the eyebrows conform to the 
representations of the general effects of the curve, the 
straight line, and combinations of both as explained on 
pages 58 to yj. " The eyebrows alone," he says, " often ex- 
press the whole character of a man. Witness the por- 
traits of Tasso, Leon Battista, Alberti, Boileau, Turenne, 
La Fevre, Apelles, Oxenstiern, Clarke, Newton, etc. . . . 
Eyebrows gently arched accord with the modesty and 
simplicity of a young girl [see Florence Nightingale, 
Fig. 104, page 172]. Placed horizontally and in a straight 
line [see page 66~\, they indicate a vigorous and virile 
character . . . [see page 62 ; also Fig. 63, page 116]. 
When one half is horizontal and the other half is curved, 
a strong intellect will be found united with ingenuousness 
and goodness [see Figs. 59 and 60, page 109]. I never 
saw a profound thinker, or a firm and judicious man, with 
thin eyebrows placed very high and dividing the forehead 
into two equal parts. . . . Thin eyebrows are an in- 
fallible sign of apathy and indolence. . . . The more 
closely they approach the eyes, the more serious, pro- 
found, and solid is the character, which loses in force, 
firmness, and intrepidity in proportion as the eyebrows 
mount" (see Fig. 62, page 1 15). With reference to 
the forehead, again, Lavater says in his " Physiognomy " : 
" Contours arched and without angles indicate sweetness 
and flexibility of character " (see Fig. 59, page 109 ; 
also page 61). " It becomes firm and inflexible in pro- 



120 PAINTING, SCULPTURE, AND ARCHITECTURE. 



portion as the contours of the forehead become straight " 
(see Fig. 63, page 1 16). " In women," says Mantegazza, 
" at least among superior races, the superciliary arches 
are slightly marked or wholly wanting ; the forehead is 
narrow with very marked bumps [interpretive, see page 
1 12], characteristics also to be found in the skull of a 
child. Another very usual feature of the feminine skull 
is that it rises vertically, then bends abruptly toward the 
crown, making a very sharp angle. In the masculine 

head, on the contrary, there is 
no break between the curve of 
the forehead and the curve from 
forehead to occiput. The child's 
head is to be particularly dis- 
tinguished by the great de- 
velopment of its bumps." 

Once more, let us look at the 
central part of the face between 
the eye and the mouth, where 
we find the nose, from which, 
as is evident, we are most likely 
to draw inferences with refer- 
ence to length of countenance 
representative of the motive 
nature. Here, as will be noticed, are the nostrils fur- 
nishing the lungs with air, which, as pointed out on 
page 1 14, have so much to do with the motive possibilities. 
But, most important of all, here is the region of what 
we may call activity of countenance, and the active and 
the motive, as the terms are used, are synonymous. 
Notice, too, that, in strict accordance with what was said 
on page 11, this region includes both that which is in the 
neighborhood of the lips, mainly expressive of the results 




FIQ. 65.— BROAD HAND AND ROUND 
FINGERS. 

See pages 1 21-123. 



REPRESENTATION THROUGH HUMAN SHAPE. 12 1 



of physical temperament or will-power ; and also that 
which is, in the neighborhood of the eyes, mainly expres- 
sive of the results of intellectual temperament or thought- 
power ; while just where both may be supposed to be 
equally influential, it represents, in the movement of the 
nostrils, the distinctively emotional bias, as in manifesta- 
tions of taste or distaste, pleasure or displeasure (see 
Figs. 124, page 183, and 127, page 185). 

Palmistry tells a similar tale. 
There are hands which, as 
wholes, may be said to be round, 
sharp, or long ; and each of these 
may, in certain of their parts, 
exhibit characteristics belong - - 
ing to the others. It may be 
said, in general, that the round 
or broad hand, the hand with a 
fat palm, as well as fat, well- 
rounded thumb and fingers, 
shows physical and vital tenden- 
cies in excess (see Fig. 65, page fig. 66.-sharp hand with edged 

x „,. . 11 AND KNOTTED FINGERS. 

120). lne sharp, rather than c 

1 r ' See pages 1 21-123. 

round hand, the hand broad 

at the base, but assuming a wedge shape when the fingers 
are brought together, which themselves too are not 
rounded but have edged sides, knotted joints, and some- 
what flattened ends, belongs to the nervous man, the man of 
brilliant mentality, quick to perceive, interpret, and ren- 
der intelligible the general features of that which is pre- 
sented (see Fig. 66). The long hand, including often too 
the spatulated effect, as in Fig. 67, where the whole finger 
looks like an extended rectangle shaped as if to make 
the finger's sides seem as long as possible, belongs to the 




122 PAINTING, SCULPTURE, AND ARCHITECTURE. 



man given to details, the man persistent in dealing with 
small minutiae, either of thoughts or of things, never tired 
of picking them out and polishing and putting them into 
their proper places, the man who in this sense shows great 
motive power, activity, and persistency. 

Of course few actual forms to which the deductions of 
these so-called sciences apply belong to any one type ex- 
clusively. As intimated on page 
109, round and sharp character- 
istics, as also sharp and long ones, 
are more frequently than not found 
together. The question of the 
predominance, therefore, of a vital, 
mental, or motive temperament, is 
determined less by the absolute 
presence or absence of that which 
causes it than by its relative in- 
fluence. 

Another fact closely connected 
with this is that all the parts of the 
human form, to the predominating 
influence of which each tempera- 
ment is ascribable, exist in all 
men. Therefore in all men there 
is a vital, mental, or motive ten- 
dency, with a possibility of giving an interpretive bias 
in each direction. In other words, because a man has, 
in general, a vital temperament, this does not interfere 
with his tempering for special purposes any of his 
actions with a special mental, or motive emphasis. It 
will be recognized too that just as temperament is in its 
essence physical or vital, interpretive emphasis is mental ; 
and that the form of this emphasis, so far as it can be im- 




FIQ. 67.— LONG HAND AND 
SPATULATED FINGERS. 

See pages 121-123. 



REPRESENTATION THROUGH HUMAN SHAPE. 1 23 

parted aside from the actions prompted by the motive 
nature, which actions will be considered in the next 
chapter, is a result of the prominence, natural or assumed, 
of certain parts of the body. 

With reference to the representative effects of these 
parts, it involves little more than a recapitulation of what 
has been said already, to add that we naturally judge of 
vitality, pure and simple, from the torso ; of mentality 
from the extremities, especially the hands and head ; and 
of activity from the legs and arms. Taking the torso 
alone, we judge of its mentality from the interpretive 
movements of the shoulders ; and of its relation to 
activity, plainly emotive in this case, from the breast. 
Taking the legs and arms by themselves, we judge of 
their relation to vitality from the hips and shoulders ; of 
their relation to mentality from the interpretive move- 
ments sometimes made by the feet as well as hands, and 
of their mere activity, emotive too, as is proved by the 
awkwardness occasioned by the presence of anything to 
embarrass or restrain, from the knees and elbows. We 
must bear in mind, however, that, because the legs run up 
to the abdomen, there is always a peculiarly vital (and 
physical) suggestion in connection with even their most 
mental and emotional phases of expression ; and that, be- 
cause the arms run up to the shoulders and head, there is 
a peculiarly emotive and mental tendency connected with 
even their most vital and physical phases of expression. 

Taking the hands by themselves (Figs. 65, 66, and 67, 
pages 1 20 to 1 22), we judge of their relations to vitality from 
the lower palm ; of their mere mentality from the fingers, 
as will be shown on page 155, when we come to speak of 
the finger gesture, and of their relation to activity from the 
thumb and upper palm, which latter, in order to indicate 



124 PAINTING, SCULPTURE, AND ARCHITECTURE. 

inclination for or against a person or conception, is always 
turned, as will be shown, so as to welcome or repel him. 
Each of the three divisions, too, of the thumb and fingers 
seems to be correspondingly related, the length of that 
nearest the palm indicating, according to palmistry, the 
relative importance given by the mind to material con- 
siderations, of that nearest the end to ideal considerations, 
and of that between the two to the practical results of 
both combined. Taking the head by itself (see Fig. 61, 
page 115), and not forgetting that all its manifestations are 
primarily mental, we judge of its relation to vitality by 
the back, especially at the lower parts near the neck, and 
as far up as above the ears (Fig. 62, page 115) ; of men- 
tality by the front, especially at the higher parts about 
the eyes and forehead (Figs. 59 and 60, page 109) ; and of 
activity or moral possibilities of control by the middle, 
especially at the top above the ears and at the crown, 
and also by the nose (Figs. 63, page 1 16, and 64, page 1 17). 
If we look at the face, we judge of vital or physical will- 
force by the lower jaw (Fig. 62, page 116); of mentality 
by the forehead and eyes (Figs. 59, 60, 63, and 64) ; and 
of activity by the middle again, the region between the 
eyes and mouth, including both. A large nose, for 
instance, indicating reflective or calculating, sometimes 
selfish, activity (Fig. 63, page 116); and a large lip, indicat- 
ing instinctive, non-calculating, often unselfish, activity 
(see Fig. 60, page 109). 

It is evident, however, that all that has been said in this 
chapter can make the body representative to a complete 
extent, in so far only as to the possibilities of physical 
temperament as manifested in the form, or of interpretive 
significance as manifested in arrangements of particular 
parts of the same, are added the influences of motive activ- 
ity. These will be considered in the chapters following. 



CHAPTER VIII. 

REPRESENTATION THROUGH THE POSTURES OF THE 
HUMAN BODY : GENERAL PRINCIPLES. 

Three Divisions of the Subject, namely, the Sources, Directions, and Forms 
of the Movements — The Vital or Physical Sources of Movements Show 
that the Vital Tendency Leads to Instinctive, Unconscious, Unpremedi- 
tated Expression — The Mental Tendency to Reflective, Conscious, and 
Premeditated Expression — The Motive, Emotive, or Moral Tendency 
to a Combination of the Two Forms of Expression — The Mental or 
Interpretive Directions of the Movements Show that Vital Expressions 
Move away from the Body — Mental Expressions Move toward it — 
Motive Expressions are in Combinations of the Other Two, as when 
Alternating or Oblique — Delsarte's Theories — The Active Effects of the 
Movements are, in the Case of Vital Expression, Free, Graceful, and 
Round — Of Mental Expression, Constrained, Awkward, Straight — Of 
Motive Expression in Action, Covering Much Space, hence Long — If 
Very Emotive, Varied and Angular — If Moral, Tense and Rigid — How 
the Actor's and Orator's Movements Combine Curvature and Straight- 
ness, Grace and Strength. 

\17E have found in the human form three general 
physical temperaments ; and we have found also that 
these may be made representative of psychical tendencies. 
Moreover, we have found that, as the organs emphasized 
in each temperament are possessed by all men, so the ten- 
dencies represented by each are in all men, and, in certain 
cases, will manifest their presence. But so far we have 
not considered the possibilities of their doing so, except 
aside from any reference to action. Now we are to con- 

125 



126 PAINTING, SCULPTURE, AND ARCHITECTURE. 

sider them in connection with this. Our subject naturally 
divides itself into three heads : the first suggested by the 
physical sources of the movements ; the second, by their 
directions as influenced by the mental aims of expression ; 
and the third, by their forms, as manifesting the mode of 
activity resulting from the combined influences of their 
sources and their aims. 

Let us consider, first, what is suggested by their physi- 
cal sources. The organs of the vital nature were said to 
be primarily those which control the accumulation and 
distribution of nutriment. The operations of these organs 
are performed as well in the body of an animal as of a 
man. Moreover, they are carried on entirely by the sym- 
pathetic nervous system, over which the mind exercises no 
conscious control. In the sense of being both physical 
and unconscious, they are also instinctive. But besides 
these movements having to do with the peculiar functions 
of the torso, other apparently unconscious movements are 
made by the body, and among them are many which, as 
a rule, have to do solely with the expression of thought. 
Others, too, when made unconsciously, are found to be 
dependent mainly upon the temperament that one has in- 
herited or the health that he happens to have acquired — 
in other words, upon the state of his vitality. To such an 
extent is this so, that men have come to associate all in- 
stinctive, unreflective, and thoughtless, in the sense of 
being unconscious and unpremeditated, movement, with 
that which represents the condition or tendency of the 
vital nature. 

Exactly the opposite is true with reference to that 
which represents the mental or interpretive nature. The 
organs of this are in the head or hand, and are fully de- 
veloped only in man. Their movements are carried on by 



REPRESENTATION THROUGH POSTURES. \2>] 

the cerebrospinal nerves, which attain their highest per- 
fection and are at their best when consciously controlled 
by his mind. It exercises this control according to 
what Herbert Spencer, in his " First Principles," terms 
reflex action, in which, as manifested in the lower orders of 
being, he tells us that " we see the incipient differentiation 
of the psychical from the physical life." All this implies that 
the distinctive characteristic of psychical or mental action 
consists in its being conscious and reflective ; and though 
the head and hand are its chief instruments of expression, 
we naturally associate with it all contemplative and pre- 
meditated movements wherever made. 

The motive nature has been said to be determined by 
the degrees of activity, and its chief organs have been said 
to be in the upper chest and the limbs. Activity, how- 
ever, is not peculiar to the motive temperament. Without 
action of some kind neither the vital nor the mental 
could find expression. Moreover, all actions of the body 
of any kind are carried on either in the instinctive way, 
having its source in the sympathetic nervous system, or 
in the reflective, having its source in the cerebro-spinal. 
We must infer, therefore, that the expressions of the mo- 
tive nature involve a combination of the two kinds already 
considered. If with this deduction in mind, we think, for 
a moment, of the movements of the upper chest, the chief 
seat of this nature, we shall recall that the lungs may be 
inflated either vitally, i. e. instinctively and unconsciously, 
or mentally, i. e., reflectively and consciously. And the 
same is true, though in a less marked degree, of movements 
in any part of the body. It was shown on page 1 1, that the 
condition in which the instinctive and reflective tenden- 
cies unite is the one that best represents the emotive ten- 
dency. As a fact, do we not always associate the heaving 



128 PAINTING, SCUIPTURE, AND ARCHITECTURE. 



of the chest, where, as has just been shown, they most 
unmistakably do unite, with a distinctive expression of 
emotion ? It was also said in the same place that the term 
emotive, as there used, was not meant to designate merely 
the physical and vital feelings, but a combination of them 
with mentality, such as causes the result to be representa- 
tive of soul. This statement, too, conforms with every- 
thing that can be said of this motive temperament. Its 
chief source is the upper chest, to which are attached the 
arms. Here are the lungs which furnish the purest suste- 
nance of life to the heart, which is the spring of all activ- 
ity ; and upon the right exercise of activity depends 

the condition of the 
moral nature. This 
temperament is there- 
fore called not only 
the motive and higher 
emotive, but also the 
moral. See again 
page 112. 

Having considered 
now the significance 
of these movements, 
as determined by their physical sources, let us con- 
sider that of their directions as influenced by the 
mental aims of expression. All that can be said here, of 
course, must be founded upon observation, and a very 
little observation, when aided, as fortunately it can be 
by the system of Delsarte, especially as developed by 
his many followers in our own country, will convince 
us that expression, in the degree on which it is purely 
vital, leads to movements outward and upward from the 
body, life always having a tendency to unfold from the 




FIG. 68 —DROWNING MAN. 
See page 129. 



REPRESENTATION THROUGH POSTURES. 



129 



internal to the external. When a man, as in drowning, 
loses vitality, his thumb and fingers bend toward the palm, 
and his hands, arms, legs, and head toward his trunk 
(see Fig. 68, page 128). But where his body is full of 
life, there is an instinctive and unconscious overflow of 
activity for which all the agencies of expression seem to 
be chiefly engaged in furnishing an outlet through move- 
ments chiefly upward and outward. A child jumping and 
gesturing along the street, with no one 
near to embarrass him or make him 
think of his actions, will sufficiently 
illustrate this statement (see again Fig. 
26, page 60). 

Purely mental expression, on the con- 
trary, tends to movements in the same 
directions as the non-vital ; but they 
differ in that they are made more con- 
sciously and emphatically. When one 
is absorbed in reflection, or is contem- 
plating an object with a view to study- 
ing it, he draws his head and hands 
together, his form may bend at the waist, 
and very likely he sits down. If then 
it be an exertion of will that he is contemplating, his hand, 
in accordance with the principle unfolded on pages 1 18 and 
142, will move toward the chin as in Fig. 69 ; if of 
emotion, it will move toward the nose, as in the bending 
figure to the left in "The Woman Taken in Adultery," 
Fig. 80, page 139 ; and if it be of thought, his hand will 
seek his forehead, as in Fig. 70, page 131. Notice also 
what is said on page 1 56. 

Again, it follows from what has been said already, that 
the motive or distinctively emotive form of expression is 




FIQ. 69. — REFLECTION. 

See pages 129, 142, 
156, 162. 



130 PAINTING, SCULPTURE, AN D ARCHl TECTURE. 

a combination of the other two. In the degree in which 
the instinctive or unconscious tendency of this combina- 
tion is in excess, there are usually upward (Fig. 26, page 
60), and then, to prepare for more of the same kind, alter- 
nating downward movements or inward (Fig. 99, page 163), 
and alternating outward movements (Fig. 78, page 136); or 
sideward, and alternating movements in an opposite direc- 
tion, like simple twisting or swaying of limbs or body 
(Fig. 85, page 146). But in the degree in which the reflec- 
tive or conscious tendency is in excess, there is a process 
of opposing counteraction that impedes excess of move- 
ment, checks mere alternation, and causes a blending of 
the two methods in one. The latter condition leads to 
oblique movements forward or backward (Figs. 73 and 
74, page 132). These, if forcibly made, representing, at 
the same time, instinctive lack of control and also reflec- 
tive control ; in other words, both excitement and purpose, 
with a predominence of the latter, have a peculiar and 
powerful emotive effect of their own, which effect, uniting, 
as it does, all that is most animal with all that is most 
calculating, is distinctly suggestive of threatening hostility. 
The oblique movement forward is the most indicative of 
the threat (Fig. 73, page 132); and that backward, the 
most of mere hostility (Fig. 74, page 132) ; but either may 
presage equally unpleasant results. 

For this way of analyzing the different kinds of move- 
ment, as well as of associating certain tendencies of expres- 
sion with certain parts of the body, which will be consid- 
ered in the next paragraph, the world seems to be indebted 
primarily to Delsarte. His followers term the three kinds 
of movement just considered sometimes the vital, the 
mental, and the moral ; sometimes the sensitive, the re- 
flective, and the affective ; sometimes, referring to their 




J 3i 



FIQ. 70.— STERN'S MARIA, BY WRIGHT OF DERBY. 
See pages 129, 142, 156, 168. 



132 PAINTING, SCULPTURE, AND ARCHITECTURE. 





FIG. 71.— UPWARD 
CLOSING GESTURE 



directions, the eccentric, the concentric, and the norma] 
and sometimes they use 
other names ; but the move- 
ments, as applied to human 
expression, would never 
have been systematized ex- 
cept for him. In this volume 
they are not always inter- 
preted as in his system ; nor 
are they developed into his 
nine other movements. It 
has been thought more safe 
for theoretical purposes, as FiQ . 72— side 
well as sufficient for prac- closing gesture. 

Seepages 130, 145, tical purposes, to ascribe Seepages 130, 140, 
152, 156, 161. them> more fully than he T 5 , i5 • 

did, and confine them to the antagonisms which exist 
between the tendencies of the body and of the mind. 

Besides this, the move- 
ments are correlated, 

as those of the Del- 

sarte system are not, 

to methods employed 

in the other arts. 

Indeed, while giving 

all due credit to the 

great French teacher, 

it is not necessary to 

ascribe to him every 

suggestion connected 

with this subject. Di- 

Seenafres62 no iv visions into threes are See pages 62, 130, 145 
oeepagesu^, ijo, 137, g „ , 

145,148,167,172,175. not uncommon. See 4/ ' * ' * ' J ' 
the note on page 17 of " Poetry as a Representative Art.' 





FIG. 73. -OBLIQUE 
FORWARD MOVEMENT. 



FIQ. 74— OBLIQUE 
BACKWARD MOVEMENT. 



REPRESEN TA TION THROUGH POSTURES. I 3 3 

Much of what is to follow, including the explanation of 
the principles underlying the gestures of the arms and 
hands on pages 149 to 164, upon which is based, too, the 
whole system of facial expression in Chapter IX., was 
prepared from original material for the " Orator's Manual " 
years ago ; nor are any explanations similar in kind trace- 
able to Delsarte, though, as they are now adopted almost 
universally by those who teach his system, they have come 
to be incorrectly attributed to him. 

In accordance with the intention indicated on page 126, 
we have still to notice the conditions of thought repre- 
sented by the effects of the tendencies under considera- 
tion, as manifested in the forms of activity resulting from 
the combined influences of their sources and directions. 
To treat this part of our subject properly we must divide 
it, and observe the effects of activity in connection with 
the tendencies, first of the vital, next of the mental, and 
last of the motive nature. To begin with, it may be said 
that any one who has watched movements that are dis- 
tinctively instinctive and unconscious, like those of chil- 
dred at play when no one is present to overawe or criticise 
them, will recognize what is meant when it is affirmed 
that all their methods of expression have a tendency to 
assume the free, unconstrained, graceful forms that are 
naturally expressed in curves (Fig. 26, page 60). There 
is a sense, therefore, in which the vital tendency, when 
combined with activity, leads to movements as well as to 
forms that are characterized by roundness. 

A very little observation of the same kind will reveal, 
too, the truth of a counterbalancing statement. This is, 
that, in the degree in which the mind is in a reflective and 
conscious state, the movements have a tendency to as- 
sume the constrained, awkward forms that are naturally 
expressed in lines that are the opposite of curves. In the 



134 PAINTING, SCULPTURE, AND ARCHITECTURE. 



gesture, for instance, mentality always straightens as well 
as stiffens the muscles not only of the hands and fingers, 
which are its chief organs of expression, but also of the 
arms. The moment that we see these members put into 
the straight upward, downward, or outward shape of a 
pointing or an emphatic oratorical gesture, whether made 
with ringer (Fig. 76, page 134), fist, or whole hand (Fig. 
75, page 134), or with both hands and legs, as in the case 
of the man in Fig. 77, page 135, evidently having a hard 
task in trying to 
convince others 
of the truth of 
his assertions, 
then we know 
that it does not 
give expression 
to a purely in- 
stinctive con- 
dition, but to 
that which is 
under the con- 
trol of the re- 
flective powers ; 
we know that 
the forms as- 
sumed are results of an endeavor to interpret thoughts of 
which the mind is definitely conscious. Mentality has been 
said to be indicated by sharpness and straightness of form. 
Evidently, it can be said to be indicated by movements, 
too, of the same kind, for it is definite thought more than 
anything else that is indicated by these gestures and 
postures, aiming or pointing, as they do, with both 
angularity and straightness of finger, hand, arm, or leg. 




FIG. 75.— DOWNWARD 
CLOSING GESTURE. 

Seepages 130, 134, 136, 
140, 156, 158. 




FIG. 76.-SIDEWARD FINGER 
GESTURE. 

See pages 134, 136, 156, 
158, 159- 



PEPPESE.YI'AEIOX THROUGH POSTUJRES. 



135 



According to what has been said, we should expect the 
motive tendency to add an element of still greater activity 
to the mode of expression natural to either the vital or 
the mental. This activity may express itself through 
that which pertains more particularly either to the body 
or to the mind, or to that combination of the two which 
was said, on page 12, to correspond to what is under- 
stood by soul. Activity must manifest itself, evidently, 
in the degree in which a form of movement causes cer- 
tain parts of the body to appear to pass through, or to 
cover, a large part of space. 
We have found already that 
length is an indication of ac- 
tivity. Notice, now, that this 
is true as applied not only to 
form, but to movement, in 
fact that it is true of form 
because of its being true of 
movement. The long body 
with its long legs and arms, 
and, where the latter are 
short, a long reach of the arms 
upward, downward, or out- 
ward, — these are necessary 
for an appearance of a great amount of bodily activity, i. e., 
of movement over a great amount of space. This state- 
ment conforms, too, as will be observed, to that already 
made with reference to the expression of activity through 
the agency, particularly, of the arms. Notice Fig. 78, 
page 136, also Fig. 2, page 21. 

But from what has been said of the motive tendency, 
we should expect it not only to add greater activity to 
the mode of expression natural to the vital and to the 




FIQ. 77. -ANGULAR ARGUMENTATIVE 

MOVEMENTS. 

See pages 62, 134. 



I36 PAINTING, SCULPTURE, AND ARCHITECTURE. 



mental, but also, in someway, to combine them. With this 
thought in mind, notice the construction of the human 
body, especially of the limbs, and of these, particularly, 
the legs, arms, and hands, which, as has been pointed out, 
are, in a peculiar sense, the organs of motive expres- 
sion. Observe how perfectly these are fitted to combine 
all the possibilities of the curve, representing the vital ; 
and of the straight and angular, representing the mental. 
They can represent these because they have not only 
length but joints. Expression by 
means of joints always necessitates 
angles. But these, when slight, do 
not appear to be angles so much as 
curves. Joints, therefore, furnish 
that which enables the body, in con- 
nection with straight lines, to mani- 
fest both curves and angles, and thus 
to combine both instinctive and re- 
flective expression. But when these 
are combined, we might infer, for 
reasons given on page 11, that we 
should have emotive expression. A 
glance at men's actual movements 
will confirm by facts the accuracy 
of this inference. With a little 
emotion, instinctive rather than reflective in its source, 
the angles of the arms and hands, as indeed of the whole 
body, are so slight that all seem to be curves (see Fig. 20, 
page 48, also Fig. 34, page 71). With a little emotion, 
mainly of a reflective kind, the arms hang straight at 
the sides, or are so disposed as to have an effect of 
straightness in connection with curves (see Fig. 79, also 
Figs. 75 and 76, page 134). With much emotion, whether 




FIG. 78. 
DANCING MOVEMENTS. 

See pages 130, 135, 142. 



REPRESENTATION THROUGH POSTURES. 



137 



its source be instinctive or reflective, every movement 
becomes more or less angular as well as curved (see Figs. 
73, page 132, and 39, page 79). It need scarcely be pointed 
out now that to associate the expression of the instinc- 
tive, the reflective, and the 
emotive, respectively, with 
the curve, the straight line 
in connection with the 
angular, and the combi- 
nation of all, is to reach a 
result in exact conformity 
with the principles stated 
on page 61. 

We- shall not have done 
with this part of our sub- 
ject, however, till it has 
been shown what phase of 
activity in the movements 
involves a representation 
of that emotive condition, 
which, on page 113, was 
said to be moral in charac- 
ter. Of course it must be 
a phase in which physical 
tendencies seem to be sub- 
ordinated to mental. We 
have found that the former 
show themselves in curves, 
and the latter in straight 
and angular lines. Now 
what must happen when both tendencies act, yet the latter 
control ? — when the curves remain, yet seem used by that 
which can make them straight ? — what but this ? All the 




FIG. 79.— A NEW GUINEA CHIEF. 
See pages 136, 138. 



I38 PAINTING, SCULPTURE, AND ARCHITECTURE. 

muscles of the limbs, whatever forms they may assume, 
become rigid. Slight mental control is sometimes mani- 
fested by as great a variety of angles as great mental 
control ; but in the former, the muscles are limp (Fig. 88, 
page 147), in the latter they are always tense (Fig. 84, 
page 138). 

It is seldom, therefore, that the actor or orator, except 
when intentionally depicting weakness, fails to keep com- 
mand of the muscles in every part of his frame. At the 
same time, he tries to accommodate his actions to the re- 
quirements of curvature as well as of straightness, know- 
ing that while strength of thought, as indicated by the 
latter, is a virtue, unyielding strength of this kind, with 
no suggestion of geniality of nature or of sympathy with 
what is outside of oneself, is as ungracious as it is ungrace- 
ful. The ordinary position in oratory, consciously as- 
sumed and by tense muscles too, is that of the compound 
curve. This, as distinguished from the simple curve, is 
one, the different parts of which point in different direc- 
tions. As manifested by the pose of the whole body, for 
instance, the limbs as far up as the hips would point in 
one direction, the trunk, as far as the shoulders, in an- 
other direction, and the shoulders and head again in the 
direction of the lower limbs (see Figs. 79, page 137 ; 28, 
page 62 ; and 38, page J/). As manifested by the posi- 
tions assumed by the arms and hands, the part of the arm 
above the elbow would, when making the opening gesture 
(see page 1 56), be bent in one direction, the part below 
the elbow in another direction, while the hand from the 
wrist downward would be bent in the same direction as 
the arm above the elbow. Notice this curve, in both 
gestures of the man in Fig. 27, page 61, in the gesture in 
Fig. 97, page 159, and, as very well made, in the high 



140 PAINTING, SCULP TUBE, AND ARCHITECTURE. 

gesture in Fig. 82, page 143. On the contrary, in mak- 
ing the closing gesture (see page 156), the elbow is not 
bent, the effect of the compound curve in this case 
being produced best when the arm is straight, as in 
Fig. 75, page 134. If the elbow be bent, the effect is that 
of a single curve, as in the weak gesture represented in 
Fig. 72, page 132. The compound curve, as used both 
in the pose of the body and in the arm gesture, seems to 
be the one which best satisfies the requirements of beauty, 
and, not only so, but also, apparently for the same reason 
the one which, by preserving the balance of the mem- 
bers, satisfies best also the requirements of strength. In 
the arm, in fact, it does so in a very apparent way, inasmuch 
as the slight bend at the elbow prevents the gesturer from 
seeming to strike beyond his reach, and thus augments the 
appearance of force, as well as of grace, imparted by the 
visible blow. As influenced by the motive inspiring it, 
i. e., by the condition of the emotive nature, this slight 
bend in the ideal pose and gesture becomes straighter and 
stiffer in the degree in which the only consideration is 
truth which the gesturer, in an upright and downright 
way, is trying to lay before us. Notice both hands of the 
Christ in Fig. 8c, page 139. But this consideration is 
itself often very closely connected with sufficient interest 
to stir the emotions ; and in the degree in which these 
become profoundly moved, they are no longer satisfied 
to persuade us with gentle curves or to pound thought 
into us with straight aimed lines (notice the figures at the 
left of the Christ in Fig. 80, page 139); but they excite 
our memories and imaginations by adding all sorts of 
graphic and dramatic effects through the use of angles. 
Notice the figures at the right and left in Fig. 80 ; also in 
Fig. 39, page 79. 



CHAPTER IX. 

REPRESENTATION THROUGH PARTICULAR GESTURES OF 
THE TORSO AND LIMBS. 

Complex Nature of the Subjects to be Treated and the Order in which they 
will be Considered — Different Parts of the Body as Imparting a Pecul- 
iar Phase to Emphasis — Vital versus Mental Movements of the Body in 
Genera] Illustrating this : Those Mainly Physical of the Lower Torso 
— Of the Lower Limbs — Mainly Mental of the Hands and Plead with 
Upper Torso — Mainly Emotive of the Upper Torso with Shoulders and 
Arms — Mental or Interpretive Movements of the Hands — The Place in 
the Physical Sphere in which the bland is Held : Horizontal Extension 
— Vertical, Downward, and Upward Extension — Meaning of Gestures 
as Determined by their Physical Relations, as About, Below, or Above 
the Breast — Indicative not of Actual so much as Conceived Relations — 
Interpretive Shapes Assumed by the Hand — Physical Suggestions of the 
Fist — Mental of the Fingers — Emotive of the Palm — Closing Gesture 
with Averted Palm — Opening Gesture with the Opposite — Motive Ex- 
pression in the Methods of Managing the Arms — Movement from and 
toward the Body and in Both Ways. 

PHUSfarwe have been observing the general princi- 
ples of representation through the human form. 
Now we have to notice the methods of applying them in 
particular representative emergencies. Of course, this 
task involves a somewhat complex view of each phase of 
the subject, inasmuch as elements of expression hitherto 
considered as operating apart, must now be considered as 
operating together. But by following the same general 
order of treatment as has been pursued up to this point, 
it is hoped that the whole subject maybe made to appear 

141 



142 Painting, sculpture, and architecture. 



clear. This order will lead us to begin by noticing the 
more physical movements as distinguished from those that 
are more mental. As the latter, according to what was said 
in page 112, are the distinctively interpretive gestures of 
the hands and head, our object will be sufficiently attained 
by considering, first, as distinguished from these two, the 
other parts of the body. It is in them evidently that we 
find the most physical movements, and, in connection with 
them, as follows from what has been said already, the 
movements that are most likely to con- 
vey impressions of the instinctive, the 
unconscious, the graceful, and, in fact, 
of everything naturally accompanying 
vitality. 

Carrying to its logical conclusions a 
phase of thought already many times 
suggested, let us begin by noticing the 
natural inference brought out by Del- 
sarte, that prominence given to any 
part of the body by gestures made 
with them or to them by the use of 
the hands, feet, or head, as indicated on 
pages 1 26 to 128, gives to an expression 
the phase of emphasis represented by 
that part of the body. Thus move- 
ments of or to the abdomen (Fig. 8i, page 142) or hips, 
as in certain dances (Fig. 78, page 136), give a physical 
phase of emphasis ; movements of or to the hands or 
the head give a mental or reflective phase of emphasis, 
interpreting it and rendering it intelligible (see page 1 12, 
also Figs. 69, page 129, and 70, page 131). Movements 
of or to the breast again give a motive, or sometimes, as 
has been said, a higher emotive or moral phase of em- 
phasis (see Fig. 38, page yj y also Fig. 82, page 143). 




FIQ. 81.— DISCOMFORT 
IN THE ABDOMEN. 

See pages 142, 162. 




FIG. 82.— THE RESURRECTION. T. N. MACLEAN. 
H3 See pages 140, 142, 151, 152, 160, 161, 167, 174, 286. 



144 PAINTING, SCULPTURE, AND ARCHITECTURE. 



To refer in this place to any large number of the many 
possible movements of the body illustrating these state- 
ments would unwarrant- 
ably extend this part of 
our subject. Suffice it to 
say that there is hardly 
a conceivable pose which 
the principles involved in 
them, in connection with 
what has been said hither- 
to, cannot explain, if only 
one be willing to expend 
a little thought in trying 
to interpret it. 

Recalling what has been 
said of the instinctive 
nature of movements out- 
ward and upward, the 
reflective nature of the 
contrary movements, and 
the emotive nature of side 
or oblique movements in 
either direction, we shall 
recognize that if the torso, 
the seat of vitality, lean 
slightly forward or to one 
side, with the aid of hips, 
knees, and ankles, all these 
in an instinctive way con- 
tribute merely to the 
gracefulness and geniality 
which we associate with 
healthful and, often, for this reason, good-natured vitality 
(Fig. 83, page 144). The same part of the body sway- 




FIQ. 83.— THE FAUN OF PRAXITELES. 

See pages 6i, 144, 147, 282. 



REPRESENTATION THROUGH GESTURES. 



145 



ing from side to side, accentuates by action the same 
impression. 



Twisting, it indicates a little more conflict 



between feeling and thought, but with much indecis- 
ion and impotence with reference to surroundings (Fig. 
85, page 146). Drawn backward, it indicates something 
that checks by thought the instinctive promptings (Fig. 
89, page 148). If drawn back obliquely, it indicates a plot 
to get the better of one who is thus opposed (Fig. 74, 
page 132). Thrust forward, in the same oblique way, it 
shows that conflict with him has begun (Fig. 31, page 
65) ; and when, in either position, hips, knees, and ankles 
cause all the limbs to be out of line with the vertical, they 
show the sharpness of nervous excitation (Fig. 39, page 
79), and,where this assumes an active form, u 
excitation intelligently embodying itself in 
physical force (Fig. 73, page 132). Held 
erect again, the torso and lower limbs, in- 
creasing, as all do when used together, the 
impression of length, manifest vitality used 
for moral effect (Figs. 58, page 104, 71, 
page 132, 84, page 145). 

Glancing now at the lower limbs, the 
man who stands on one leg and rests with 
the other — and especially if he let this 
dangle or hang loosely, — has divided into 
two parts the expression of vitality, pure 
and simple. 

to the source of activity or the emotive, See pages 62, 138, 
in case his free knee be thrust into prom- I4? ' I52 - 

inence, and to the source of intelligence in case his free 
foot. (Fig. 85, page 146). The man who sits, crossing 
his legs near the knee, letting one foot hang loosely has 
subordinated his vital nature to the emotive (Fig. 86, page 




One half of it is pointing fig. 84.-lenqth 

fe FOR MORAL EFFECT. 



I46 PAINTING, SCULPTURE, AND ARCHITECTURE. 

146). But if he bring the foot up in a line horizontal with 
the knee on which it rests, and begin with his hands to 
rub and pat his lower limbs, even his mentality has been 
pressed into service to aid the emotively vital nature of 
his expression (Fig. 87, page 146). The straddle and the 
stride are caricatures of the parallelism of the straight 
line indicative of that self-control which is indicated by 
the upright and downright posture. So, though the 





FIG. 85.— EXPRESSION FIG. 86.— EXPRESSION WITH FIG. 87.— EXPRESSION WITH 
WITH THE FOOT. THE FOOT AND LEG. THE FOOT AND KNEE. 



See pages 130, 145. 



See page 145. 



See page 146. 



one who assumes them may imagine that they are morally 
strong, we merely laugh at him. 

The order in which we are to consider the parts of the 
body obliges us to postpone noticing the manifestations 
of the conditions of thought through the use of the hands 
and head, until after ending what is to be said of the rest of 
the form. Accordingly these two need mention here merely 
so far as they are used conjointly with other members. 
It has been said, for instance, that the lower torso is the 



REP RE SE N TA TION TlIR UGH GEST UR E S. 



47 



seat of the vital and physical, and the upper of the emo- 
tive and moral nature. To an extent this enables us to 
gauge the controlling motive. See the position of the 
drunkard in Fig. 88, page 147, also of the man in Fig. 27, 
page 61. In Fig. 83, page 144, the side emphasis of the 
hips is evenly balanced by the forward inclination of the 
chest. This Faun, therefore, has at least, some soul. But 
in Fig. 28, page 62, only the higher emotive nature is made 
prominent. Sometimes both the upper and lower torso 
may unite in an instinctive movement 
forward or toward an object of desire or 
affection. But the moment that reflection 
begins to have any influence upon the in- 
stinctive feelings, self-conscious modesty, 
timidity, or caution will draw the torso 
backward. If, then, the influence be ex- 
erted upon the instinctive feelings alone, a 
counter forward movement on the part of 
the head (Fig. 89, page 148) or eyes or 
hands will interpret the secret which the 
heart keeps hid (Fig. 91, page 149). So 
if it be chiefly the thought that is thus 
influenced, it will be the head that is 
thrust forward (see Fig. 90, page 148, also 
the man at the left in Fig. 39, page 79) or drawn back- 
ward (see the head of the Judas in Fig. 92, page 150). If 
in connection with the torso thrust forward, the head be 
held back, this indicates that thought is not yet in a 
mood to commit itself entirely, but is merely weighing 
that to which desire impels (see the man in Fig. 27, 
page 61). The head held violently back indicates plotting 
and scheming, as in Fig. 74, page 132, also the Judas in 
Fig. 92, page 1 50. 




FI3. 88 —EXPRESSION 
WITH THE HIPS. 

See pages 138, 147. 



148 PAINTING, SCULPTURE, AND ARCHITECTURE. 



The breast, shoulders, and arms, so far as the latter can 
be considered otherwise than in connection with the hand 
gestures, represent, for reasons that have been given, the 
condition of that emotive influence which furnishes the 
motive for action, and, if having to do with conduct, for 
moral or immoral action. If the breast swell gently, but 
visibly in and out more than is necessary for breathing; 
or lean toward an object (notice the John in Fig. 92, 
page 150) or away from it (notice the Judas in the same 
figure) ; or if the 
shoulders move for- 
ward and upward 
(Fig. 91, page 149), or 
backward and down- 
ward (Fig. 89, page 
148) ; or if the elbows 
and wrists make sim- 
ilar movements, even 
no more than the 
curves that they na- 
turally use in walking, 
all these movements 
indicate the instinc- 
tive promptings of 
the emotive nature. 
In the degree in which such movements are intense (Fig. 
91, page 149), they represent a desire to possess or to be 
possessed by some person or thing; and, in connection 
with this, they indicate that the emotive nature is in- 
fluenced in accordance with a conscious mental purpose. 
The same parts of the frame heaved rapidly, rigidly, and 
angularly in the same directions (Figs. 73 and 74, page 132) 
indicate that the emotive nature is under the influence of 




FIQ. 89. 

WALKING WITH UPPER 

CHEST AND BROW IN 

ADVANCE. 

See pages 145, 147, 
148, 169, 172. 




FIG. 90. 
WALKING WITH FACE 

IN ADVANCE. 

See pages 148, 167, 

171. 



REPRESENTATION THROUGH GESTURES. 



149 



both mentality and great excitement. But, for a contrary 
reason, the same parts of the frame held in a straight up- 
right position indicate that they are under the sway of 
that intelligent self-control which results when one feels 
the dignity and seriousness of life and its responsibilities. 
They represent emotions used or influenced in a good 
sense morally (Fig. 93, page 151, and Fig. 28, page 62). 

We pass on now to 
the interpretive move- 
ments of the hands and 
face, taking first the 
former, both because 
they are more closely 
allied to the physical, 
and, because, when un- 
derstood, they render 
those of the face more 
easy to explain. Here 
we shall follow an order 
of thought correspond- 
ing in general to that 
already pursued, by con- 
sidering, first, the place, 
as we might say, in the 
physical sphere, about, 
below, or above the 
breast, from which the 
effect of the gesture when struck is produced ; second, the 
shape of the hand, distinctively interpretive in its nature, 
which is assumed at the stroke of the gesture ; and, lastly, 
the movement of the hand toward the body or away from 
it as it is conveyed by the arms to the place where the 
stroke is made. 




FIQ. 91.— FAITH, HOPE, AND LOVE. 
See pages 147, 148, 151, 162, 169. 



150 PAINTING, SCULPTURE, AND ARCHITECTURE. 

With reference to this place, which, as has been said, 
we are to consider first, notice that it may extend the 
physical sphere of the man, to those standing in front of 




FIQ. 92.— JUDAS, PETER, AND JOHN, FROM THE LAST SUPPER OF 
LEONARDO DA VINCI. 

See pages 147, 148, 158, 167, 169, 173, 287. 

him, either horizontally or vertically. Horizontal move- 
ments, i. e., those at the sides, whether made in connection 
with downward or upward directions of the arms, make 



REPRESENTATION THROUGH GESTURES. 



IU 



this sphere seem broader. Breadth, as we have found, 
is the test of vital measurement. These horizontal move- 
ments, therefore, indicate one's relation to other persons 
or things on the plane of life. It follows from this that 
movements which extend to the greatest distance at the 
sides, refer to subjects which are conceived to be inclusive 
of considerations at the greatest distance physically, 
and hence too, sometimes, by way of analogy, mentally 
and morally, from the person making the movements. 
They refer, therefore, to the comprehen- 
sive, the broad, the abstract, the general (see 
Fig. 28, page 62; also Figs. 97, page 159, and 
98, page 160). As from this position they 
gradually approach the body, their signi- 
ficance changes by degrees until they are 
made directly in front, as when one strikes 
up and down with his finger ; or clasps 
the hands together or points to the breast. 
Then they refer to what is conceived to 
be relatively non-comprehensive, either 
because that to which they refer is in 
itself of only narrow importance, as when 
the finger is used playfully or in stigma- 
tizing (see Fig. 94, page 152) ; or, if it be 
more important, is so only because of 
some concrete example or specific appli- 
cation (see Figs. 82, page 143, and 91, page 149) ; or has 
been so thoroughly studied and analyzed that a man 
feels that it has become exclusively his own (see the 
author in Fig. 29, page 63). 

If, in the gesture, the hands be carried so as to extend 
the sphere of the man vertically, they increase, when held 
forward, which is usually the case in connection with the 




FIG. 93— WALKING 
UPRIGHT. 

See pages 149, 
169. 



152 PAINTING, SCULPTURE, AND ARCHITECTURE. 

emphatic downward gesture, what by analogy we may 
term the effects of sharpness (notice again the author 
in Fig. 29, page 63). If the hands be extended above the 
head, as in the upward gesture, they increase the effects 
of length (see Figs. 2, page 21, 71, page 132, 82, page 




FIQ. 94.— ADDING INSULT TO INJURY. GAETANO CHIERICI. 
See pages 151, 156, 263. 



143, and 84, page 145). These facts suggest a correspond- 
ence sufficient for our general purpose between the down- 
ward gesture and the expression of the mental nature and 
the upward and the expression of the moral or higher 
emotive nature. 



REPRESENTATION THROUGH GESTURES. 1 53 

Combining now, as is always done in practice, the 
effects of the horizontal and the vertical directions, but 
with main reference still to the latter, we may say that 
there are three planes in which the stroke of a gesture 
may be made. One is on a level with the breast, which is 
the seat of the motive or emotive nature, or, as we may say 
(see page 12), of the soul. One is below it, and one is 
above it. The principle underlying the phase of thought 
represented by the hand, when carried to either of the 
three planes, is as follows : Every soul inside of a body 
conceives of itself as at the centre of the universe, which 
the horizon rims, the earth grounds, and the zenith domes. 
Every man, even the least egotistic, is compelled to think 
that not only the world but the universe revolves around 
himself. Perhaps he is right — who knows? If God be 
really in that fourth dimension within us, and the human 
soul be really a focus in which the rays from earth and 
heaven meet and blend, how far is this from the truth ? 
But whether right or wrong, a man cannot rid himself of 
this conception. When he gestures, he cannot do other- 
wise than give expression to it. His hands are carried on 
a level with the breast to represent what he conceives to 
be on a physical, and hence, by analogy, a mental or 
moral level with himself. They move before him to indi- 
cate that which he really sees there, or to refer ideally to 
the truth or hope that he anticipates in the future. They 
move behind him to indicate that which is really behind 
him, something that he has abandoned or turned from 
possibly with loathing or regret ; or they may refer ideally 
to a condition of opinion and life beyond which he has 
progressed. They move to one side to refer to some 
actual physical presence there, or, ideally, if the gesture 
indicate exclusion, to something that is a side issue from 



154 PAINTING, SCULPTURE, AND ARCHITECTURE. 

the main line of thought; possibly to some course that is a 
diversion from straight-forward action. But if the gesture 
indicate inclusion, it refers to the general and compre- 
hensive. The hands are carried below the breast to 
represent that which one conceives to be physically 
mentally, or morally below himself; i.e., below his sight, 
comprehension, or control ; to indicate a pathway, an idea 
that he can understand, a power that he can master. 
They are carried above the breast to represent that which 
he conceives to be physically, mentally, or morally above 
himself; above his sight, conception, or control; to indi- 
cate a star, a grand idea, a mighty force. 

In applying these principles, it must always be borne in 
mind that the different directions taken by the gesture rep- 
resent not what actually is, but what a man conceives to 
be. Most of the published discussions of this subject do not 
sufficiently emphasize this fact. We are told, for instance, 
that good and God must receive upward gestures, and 
bad and the Devil downward gestures. But this depends 
entirely upon one's point of view, upon his conception. 
The expression, " Get thee behind me, Satan," would 
require a downward and backward gesture, because the 
speaker would conceive of Satan as below and behind him- 
self morally ; but the expression : 

There was a Brutus once that would have brooked 
The Eternal Devil to keep his state in Rome 
As easily as a king — 

Shakespeare : Julius Ccesar, i., 2. 

would require an upward and forward gesture, because in 
it Satan is conceived of as a foe of overwhelming force, 
whom one is facing, therefore as one physically above and 
before the speaker, and not by any means below or 
behind him. 



REPRESENTATION THROUGH GESTURES. 1 55 

Now let us consider the shapes assumed by the hand in 
the place where the gesture is struck. There may be said 
to be three of these shapes, namely, that of the fist, of the 
finger, and of the exposed palm. These all seem to inter- 
pret the gesture mentally by adding significance to its 
mode of emphasis. We shall find that they represent, 
respectively, vital, i. e., physical emphasis, showing the in- 
fluence of will ; mental emphasis, showing the influence of 
thought ; and motive emphasis, showing the influence of 
emotion. In appearance, too, they correspond in broad- 
ness, sharpness, and length to the forms already found 
to represent corresponding conceptions. 

Of the truth of these statements there can be no doubt 
in the mind of one who thinks of them. All must recog- 
nize that the fist, the broadest, roundest form that the 
hand can assume, represents, as nearly as any shape pos- 
sible for it, vital and physical emphasis, will-power applied 
to the impression of ideas. Just as a fist threatens with 
a power greater than one's own, if held above one's head ; 
and with one's own power, if held on a level with one's 
breast, so it manifests strength of conviction and a deter- 
mination to pound the truth into an opponent, if made 
in connection with a downward gesture of emphasis. 

Equally evident is the meaning of the pointing finger. 
It is the sharpest form that the hand can assume, and, 
according to what has been said, should represent inter- 
pretive mentality. This it undoubtedly does. When we 
point to an object, we do so not as an exhibition of will 
or emotion, but of thought. Nor do we wish others to 
do anything beyond concentrating their thought upon it. 
This is certainly true of the finger gesture wherever used 
descriptively, whether it point downward (see two figures 
in Fig. 80, page 139), upward (see one figure in Fig. 39, 



156 PAINTING, SCULPTURE, AND ARCHITECTURE, 

page 79), to the front (see the boy in Fig. 94, page 152), 
or to one side (see Fig. 76, page 134). This is true even 
when made with all but the forefinger clinched into an 
unmistakable fist. This fist merely causes the gesture to 
stigmatize and denounce with a more physical and forcible 
effect. When used as a gesture of emphasis, too, the 
finger means the same. *It directs attention to the small, 
delicate, and subtle points of conceptions, arguments, or 
series of facts upon which the speaker wishes to concen- 
trate not the energies or emotions of himself or his 
audience, but their powers of analytic thought. Notice 
the author in Fig. 29, page 63 ; also two figures at the 
right of Fig. 39, page 79. In Fig. 69, page 129, the finger 
on the chin indicates that the man has analyzed suffi- 
ciently to understand exactly what course of action his 
will is to choose or reject. All the fingers on the brow in 
Fig. 70, page 131, indicate a general state of confusion with 
reference to the thought that is being considered. 

Last of all, we have the gesture with the fingers and 
thumb unfolded from the palm, and displaying all their 
length. According to the principles to which reference 
has already been made so often, this shape ought to rep- 
resent the motive or emotive attitude. The moment 
that we examine closely the way in which the gesture is 
used, we cannot doubt that this is precisely what it does 
represent. There are two forms of it, namely, the closing, 
in which the palm is averted, i. e. y turned away from the 
body, where the speaker cannot see it, as in Figs. 95, 
page 157, 71, 7 2 > P a g e x 3 2 > and 75, page 134; and the 
opening, in which the position is reversed, where the 
palm is held so that the speaker can see it, as in Figs. 96, 
97, page 1 59, and 98, page 160. The closing gesture seems 
to push downward, upward, backward, forward or side- 




FIQ. 95.— CAIN, BY GIOVANNI DUPRE. 
Seepages 156, 158, 174, 281. 



158 PAINTING, SCULPTURE, AND ARCHITECTURE. 

ward, as if to keep all external things or thoughts 
from touching or influencing the one who is gesturing. 
It seems to close all channels of communication between 
him and the outside world. Notice how the left hand of 
the Christ in Fig. 80, page 139, seems to separate him 
from the woman before him. The opening gesture seems 
prepared to give and receive things or thoughts from 
every quarter ; and thus to open these channels. Notice 
the right hand of the Christ in the same Fig. 80, page 139. 
Both gestures, therefore, seem to represent the motive or 
emotive attitude. 

To extend what has been said, the closing gesture, 
being used to reject (Fig. 75, page 134), toward off (Fig. 74, 
page 132), to deny (Fig. 75, page 134), what is unpleasant 
(Fig. 72, page 132), threatening (Fig. 95, page 157), or un- 
truthful (notice the man at the right in Fig. 39, page 79), 
is used descriptively to refer to anything having these 
characteristics, to anything, therefore, like a storm, an 
avalanche, a disgusting sight, a foe, or any supposed 
source of plotting or hostility (see Fig. 95, page 157). 
For an analogous reason, as applied to abstract thought, 
it is naturally used by one who is in a mood to dogmatize, 
to dictate (see the hands of two men standing at the right 
behind the ox in Fig. 164, page 279), or to express any con- 
ception, concerning which he is not in a condition to re- 
ceive suggestions from others. Notice the left hand of 
Judas in Fig. 92, page 1 50 ; also the finger gesture in Fig. 
76, page 134. It indicates, therefore, everything which 
one does not care to submit to others as an open question, 
a question left for them to decide. In accordance with 
what was said in the last paragraph, it closes the channel 
of influence, as this comes from others, and seems to say, 
simply: " This is my opinion. I hold it irrespective of 



REPRESENTATION THROUGH GESTURES. 



59 



controlling the 




anything that you may hold." Derived from this expres- 
sional use of the gesture, is a secondary descriptive use of 
it, according to which it is made to refer to anything 
which the mind cannot conceive to be an open question 
for others to think of as they choose, therefore to any- 
thing which, if thought of at all, must be thought of in 
only one way. Thus "impending fate," or " the laws 
universe," would be indicated by high 
closing gestures. 
Closing ges- 
tures, too, would 
be used when 
referring to any 
object that to 
the mind's eye 
has definite out- 
lines, like a cliff, 
or house. If ob- 
jects like this be 
small, the finger 
usually points 

FIG. 96.— DOWNWARD to them, but the FIG. 97— SIDEWARD DESCRIP- 
OPENI G GESTURE. VOling'eSt child TIVE OPEN1NQ GESTURE. 

See pag[e 160. . . . See pages 138, 151, 160. 

r & never points to F s 

a thing that has definite outlines with the palm up. It is 
always down. It is not an open question how one shall 
conceive of a particular horse or dog: and so the closing 
gesture with the index finger, shuts out all appeal. The 
mind of the speaker cannot be satisfied unless the hearer 
conceives of these objects just as he does (see Fig. 76, 
page 134). 

The opening gesture indicates exactly the opposite. 
Being used to welcome or impart what is pleasant, inter- 




l6o PAINTING, SCUPTURE, AND ARCHITECTURE. 



esting or important, it naturally refers, in a descriptive 
way, to any thing or thought having these characteristics, 
to anything conceived of, therefore, as being freely 
given (see the man in Fig. 27, page 61) or received like a 
gift or purchase, or like friendship, joy, knowledge, pros- 
perity, or blessedness (see the right hand in Fig. 82, page 
143). As accompanying an expression of abstract thought, 
it evidently is in place whenever one submits an opinion 
as an open question for others to consider and decide as 
they may deem fit. It is the gesture, therefore of inquiry, 
persuasion, and appeal (Fig. 96, page 159). " They should 
be put to death," uttered with the 
closing gesture, means: "This is my 
opinion, and I hold it irrespective of 
anything that you may think about 
it." The same words, uttered with the 
opening gesture, mean : " This is my 
opinion ; do you not, should you not, 
in view of all the arguments that I have 
used, agree with me ? " Derived from 
this expressional use of the opening 
gesture, is a secondary descriptive use 
of it, causing it to refer to anything of 
a doubtful and definite nature, which it 
is an open question for others to think 
of as they choose. It would be used in mentioning 
a " smiling country," or a " sunny landscape " (Fig. 
97, page 159). In conceiving of these, the speaker 
does not have in mind, nor does he wish the hearer 
to have in mind, any fixed or definite object. Im- 
agination can fill in the outlines as it chooses, and 
the gesture indicates this fact. So " liberty," " prog- 
ress," and " blessedness " receive the high opening ges- 




FIQ. 98.— UPWARD 
OPENING GESTURE. 
See pages 151, 161. 



REPRESENTATION THROUGH GESTURES. l6l 

ture, partly because they are always welcome, yet partly, 
too, because the results of them may manifest any one of 
a thousand different effects, which the mind of the listener 
is left free to conjure according to his fancy (Fig. 98, 
page 160; see also Fig. 82, page 143). The benediction after 
religious services in church, as given with the closing ges- 
tures, corresponding to the position in Fig. 71, page 132, 
is ritualistic. It imparts constraining grace. As given 
with the opening gesture, corresponding to the position 
in Fig. 98, page 160, it is evangelical. It solicits inspiring 
grace. So the hand of the woman accepting the offer of 
marriage in Fig. 27, page 61, not only indicates embarrass- 
ment, as said on page 61. It also imparts, without in- 
tention, the information that she is the one who will not 
yield, but will rule and dictate when the wedding has been 
consummated. The pointing finger, too, when the palm 
is in the position of an open gesture, does not mean the 
same as when it is in the position of the closing gesture. 
In the former case it does not point merely to definite 
objects ; it points to open possibilities. What is upper- 
most in the mind of the man at the left of the Christ in 
Fig. 80, page 139, is to ask a question, "What shall be 
done in view of that to which I point ? What is up- 
permost in the mind of the man pointing upward at the 
right of Fig. 39, page 79, is to indicate a source from 
which one can receive inspiration ; and he is beckoning — 
asking others to consider it. The motive is thus that of 
the opening gesture. 

A few sentences more will embody all that needs to be 
added with reference to the meanings of the movements 
of the hand while being conveyed by the arm to the place 
towards which the gesture is aimed. All these move- 
ments, of course, as follows from what has been said, 



1 62 PAINTING, SCULPTURE, AND ARCHITECTURE. 

whether suggesting forms of curves, straight lines, or 
angles, give expression, in a general way, to the motive 
or emotive nature ; the degrees of vitality entering into 
this being best indicated by the action of the shoulders 
(see Fig. 91, page 149) ; the degrees of interpretive intent, 
by the adjustments of the wrist and the hand and fingers 
below it (See Fig. 82, page 143); and the degrees of the 
operating motive pure and simple by the action of the 
elbows (Notice the hints of this always conveyed by their 
nudge). 

These movements, moreover, by which are meant now 
those that are preparatory to the gesture, irrespective of 
the place to which the hand is conveyed, may be made 
with a general direction away from the body, toward the 
body ; or both away from it and also toward it. When 
used descriptively, they refer, respectively to other things 
than self (notice the right hand in Fig. 82, page 143), to self 
(notice the left hand in Fig. 82), or to both ; i. e. to the 
relations between other things and self. Used mainly for 
emphasis, the hands, when moving away from the body, 
represent a full, unembarrassed and, in this sense, instinc- 
tive expression of the actuating motive. They indicate, 
like the falling inflection of the voice, that the mind has 
come to a positive and decisive conclusion. When the 
hands move toward the body (see page 129), the gestures 
are reflective ; and represent something in thought that 
checks the expression of the motive, something physical 
in phase, if they end near the abdomen (Fig. 81, page 
142), mental if near the head (Fig. 69, page 129), and 
emotional or moral if near the heart (Fig. 82, page 143). 
They indicate, like the rising inflection of the voice, that 
the mind is thinking but has come to no conclusion ; that 
it is asking a question ; that it is influenced by doubt, 



REPRESENTATION THROUGH GESTURES. 



163 



perhaps, or surprise (notice the representation of this in 
Fig. 99, page 163) ; the mood is, at least, anticipative and 
indecisive. When the hands move both from the body 
and also toward it as in Fig. 99, or, as is the case in the 
most common emphatic oratorical gesture, both toward it 
and from it, they represent a 
combination of the two con- 
ceptions already mentioned. 
The effect then is exactly par- 
allel to that of the circumflex 
inflection (see " Orator's Man- 
ual," pp. 56-59). Ifthegestures 
begin with the movement to- 
ward the body, this indicates 
that the man has asked a ques- 
tion ; and if they end with the 
movement away from it, that, 
in his own mind, as a result of 
deliberate and careful consi- 
deration of arguments pro and 
con, he has answered the question. The first direction 
shows that there has been indecision, the second that he 
has come to a conclusion ; the first that he has investi- 
gated, the second that he has reached a definite result. 
The suggestion of both facts in this gesture causes it to 
convey an impression of breadth of thought as well as of 
intensity. 

If the order of the movements be reversed, as often in 
dramatic gestures (Fig. 99, page 163), of course their 
meaning is reversed. But whatever be their order, it is 
evident that movements preparatory to starting the final 
stroke of a gesture, in the degree in which they are contin- 
ued through a long time or cover a large space, enhance 




FIG. 99.— BOY SURPRISED. 
See pages 130, 163, 171. 



164 PAINTING, SCUIPTURE, AND ARCHITECTURE. 

the representative effect, inasmuch as they indicate thus 
the degree in which the mind has reached the opinion 
which it expresses as a result of weighing the possibilities 
both in favor of it and against it. 

For further suggestions with reference to this subject, 
especially as applied to oratory, the reader is referred to 
the interpretations of the meanings of the movements 
described by the arms when preparing for the gestures, 
as well as to the explanations of the methods of making 
them, and of learning to make them, which are detailed 
in full in the author's " Orator's Manual." 



CHAPTER X. 

REPRESENTATION THROUGH POSITIONS AND MOVE- 
MENTS OF THE HEAD AND FACE. 

Correspondencies between Gestures of the Head and of the Rest of the Body 
— Physical Movements of the Head toward or from Objects or Persons, 
Directly, Sideward, or Obliquely — Phases of Mentality Suggested by 
its Different Parts — Illustrations of how these Parts Operate in Con- 
nection with the Movements — Complicated Nature of Expression by 
Movements of the Head, Eyes, and Facial Muscles — Meaning of Move- 
ments or Positions of the Head Forward with the Eyes Looking on a 
Level — With the Eyes Looking Downward — Or Upward — Meaning 
of Movements or Positions of the Head Backward with the Eyes Look- 
ing on a Level — With the Eyes Looking Downward — Or Upward — 
Meaning of Normal Positions of the Head — Difficulty of Distinguishing 
between these Different Movements or Positions — Facial Expression 
Corresponding to Shapes Assumed by the Fingers in Hand Gestures — 
— Rigid Physical Effects like those of the Fist with Mouth, Brows and 
Nose — Mental Effects of Concentration, like those of the Finger — 
Emotive Effects as in the Closing and Opening Gestures, through Using 
Muscles of the Mouth — The Eyebrows — The Eyes — The Nostrils — 
Outline Diagrams of Different Effects — Comic Effects. 

PHE gestures of the head involve many different ele- 
ments, which can be understood most readily, per- 
haps, if we begin by noticing the ways in which their various 
effects correspond to certain of those already considered. 
Of course, the entire head has to do with the representation 
of mentality ; but different phases of emphasis are imparted 
in connection with this. The movements of the whole 

165 



1 66 PAINTING, SC UP PURE, AND ARCHITECTURE. 

head, as produced by the neck, must manifest merely a 
more mental phase of the kind of emphasis produced by 
movements with other parts of the body. With this un- 
derstanding, it will be recognized that, according to what 
was said on page 129, the movement forward is vital, the 
movement backward is mental, the movement sideward 
(see page 151), oblique or rotary is emotive, and, often, 
as in denying or threatening, emotively unsympathetic. 
But besides these movements of the whole head we have 
what is termed facial expression, imparting phases of em- 
phasis far more distinctively interpretive of mental pro- 
cesses. The factors entering into facial expression, too, 
can be analyzed. They are, first, the glances of the eye in a 
forward, sideward, downward, or upward direction. These 
indicate the outlook, and correspond to the effects pro- 
duced by the hand when, as carried by the arms, it is aimed 
in similar directions. Next are to be noticed the adjust- 
ments of the muscles of the countenance. These, as we 
shall find, correspond to the distinctively interpretive 
adjustments of palm, thumb, and fingers; and in a very 
general way, it may be said that the contraction of all the 
muscles corresponds to the fist gesture ; of the same 
horizontally, as between the eyes and in the nostrils and 
lips, to the finger gesture ; of the same vertically, as in 
lowering brows and compressed lips, to the closing gesture ; 
and the relaxing of the muscles to the opening gesture. 
Lastly, here as elsewhere in the body, active combinations 
of the other two methods of expression, through the eye 
and facial muscles, produce special effects of their own. 

Beginning with the head as a whole, it is well to notice, 
first, that, in accordance with what was said on page 129, a 
general forward movement toward an object or person 
indicates mentality when most under control of instinctive 



REPRESENTATION THROUGH HEAD AND FACE. 1 67 



(notice the slight mental force in Fig. 100, page 167, 
also the Peter in Fig. 92, page 150), vital, (Fig. 90, page 
148), physical, and in this sense objective (Fig. 73, page 
132), or sometimes aggressive promptings (Fig. 31, page 
65). A general backward movement away from an object 
or person indicates the contrary, i. e., reflective and so 
contemplative (Fig. 101, page 169), cautious (notice the 
Judas in Fig. 92, page 150), or unaggressive prompt- 
ing, as in the figures to the left of Ananias in Fig. 
39, page 79. A general sideward movement, as in the 
John in Fig. 92, page 150, also 
in Figs. 82, page 143 ; 112, page 
176; 114, page 177, and 117, 
page 177, indicates an emotive 
influence, a conciousness of the 
relation of the subject of con- 
sideration to persons surround- 
ing one. Movements both for- 
ward and sideward, or oblique, 
indicate a combination of the 
vital and emotive ; and move- 
ments both backward and side- 
ward, a combination of the re- 
flective and emotive. But in either form oblique move- 
ments, if accompanied by hostile facial expressions, 
menace either vitally or mentally in the strongest way 
(Figs. 73, page 132, and 74, page 132). 

Closely connected with these physical effects of the 
head are the different phases of mentality represented in 
its different parts or features. According to phrenology 
and physiognomy, as we have found, its lower back and 
sides and the lower jaw reveal the most with reference to 
the vital or physical tendencies (see Fig. 61, page 115); 




F!Q. 100. -CREDULITY. 
See pages 167, 168, 171, 174. 



1 68 PAINTING, SCUIPTURE, AND ARCHITECTURE, 

the region about the forehead, temples, and eyes, the most 
with reference to that which is purely mental ; and the 
middle region of the crown, and of the face, including the 
nose, the most with reference to that which is emotive in 
the highest sense, or moral. Whatever, therefore, gives 
prominence to any of these parts by thrusting them for- 
ward, gives prominence to the associations connected with 
them. Notice on page 129 what is said of Figs. 70, page 
131, and 80, page 139. Of course, if the parts be deficient 
in size or shape, the effect produced by them will be 
lessened in degree. But it will not be changed in charac- 
ter. It needs to be borne in mind, however, that, in con- 
nection with each possible position of the head or eyes, 
there may be a conception of what is pleasurable or un- 
pleasurable. Precisely the same position of the head and 
direction of the eye may represent both faith and fear. 
Which of the two it is can be interpreted only by the 
facial muscles. Again, too, it must be borne in mind that 
all the effects that we are to consider are produced by 
way of contrast. A projected forehead, for instance, 
represents mentality, as contrasted with the vitality which 
would be represented were the chin projected. But 
whether the mentality be owing to a presence of thought, 
or merely to an absence of physical force, must be deter- 
mined by the expression of the eyes and facial muscles 
accompanying the position. 

The reader will now understand what is meant when it 
is said that if, in connection with a general forward or 
aggressive movement of the head toward an object or 
person, the face be held so that the chin is in advance, 
this indicates, if not aggressive vitality or physical force 
(see St. Michael in Fig. 58, page 104), at least unaggressive 
mentality (Fig. 100, page 167). This is a position often 



REP RE SEN TA TION TIIR O UGH HE A D A ND FA CE. 1 69 



assumed where a man has waived the exercise of his own 
thought, in order to listen to what others think, as partly 
indicated in Fig. 112, page 176. If the face be held so 
that the forehead is in advance, this indicates if not 
aggressive mentality (notice the gambler at the left of 
Fig. 160, page 271) at least, for the time being, unaggressive 
vitality (Fig. 89, page 148). If the face be held so that, 
on the whole, neither chin nor forehead, but rather the 
nose, is in advance, this 
indicates if not aggressive 
emotive or moral force, 
such as we see in the ordi- 
nary expression of eager- 
ness (Fig. 91, page 149), at 
least unaggressive vitality 
or mentality (Fig. 93, page 
151). Corresponding con- 
ditions in connection with 
a general backward and 
therefore unaggressive 
movement indicate corre- 
sponding tendencies, end- 
ing in mental reflection. 
The slight projection of the 
chin in Fig. 101, page 169, 
indicates such reflection 

with reference to something depending upon the exercise 
of vital force or will-power. A stronger indication of the 
same may be seen in the position of the man in Fig. 27, 
page 61, and of the Judas in Fig. 92, page 150. The slight 
projection of the forehead of the Napoleon in Fig. 63, 
page 116, indicates reflection with reference to something 
depending on the exercise of thought, as does, still more 




FIQ. 101.— UNYIELDING CONTEMPLATION. 
See pages 167, 169, 175. 



170 PAINTING, SCULPTURE, AND ARCHITECTURE. 

decidedly, that of the Mephistopheles in Fig. 50, page 99. 
The positions of the heads of the man and the woman to 
the left of Ananias in Fig. 39, page 79, indicate, as should 
be the case in a representation of primitive Christians, 
that even balance of vital and mental tendencies which 
characterizes the sway of higher emotive or moral con- 
siderations. 

It will be recognized at once that expression by means 
of the positions and movements of the head is compli- 
cated. But this will become still more evident when we 
take into consideration the fact that the suggestions con- 
veyed by the movements of the head before assuming its 
position, and also by the directions of the glances of the 
eyes, and by the adjustments of the muscles of the coun- 
tenance, are often such as to give a radically different 
meaning from that which would be given by merely one 
of these methods of expression considered by itself. For 
this reason, the same desire to present this subject with 
clearness, which, so far, has led us to treat of each factor 
of emphasis separately, must lead us here to treat of all 
the factors when acting in conjunction. The most feasible 
way of doing this, and of preserving, at the same time, an 
order of thought approximately similar to that which has 
been pursued up to this point, seems to be to take the 
possible movements of the whole head, and notice the 
modifications of the significance of each of these as im- 
parted by the possible direction of the glances of the eye. 
Later, we can notice the modifications of significance as 
imparted by the facial muscles of the lower, higher, and 
middle parts of the countenance. 

To consider, first, combinations of movements of the 
head and of the eye, we have found that a thrusting of 
the head forward, even if sideward, toward objects or 



REPRESENTA TION THROUGH HEAD AND FACE, 17 I 



persons is expressive of vital force or aggressiveness. If, 
in connection with a non-excited and usually, therefore, a 
non-hostile expression of countenance, this movement be 
accompanied by a glance of the eyes neither upward nor 
downward, but on a level with their outlook, while, too, 
the chin is in advance, the mode of expression naturally 
represents a weak, because not mentally aggressive, con- 
dition — such as may be noticed in surprise (Fig. 99, page 
163), or interrogation (see the credulity in Fig. 100, page 
1 6j). In the degree however, in which there is a determined 
expression of countenance, the suggestion of physical force 
overbalances that 
of mental weakness 
(Fig. 90, page 148), 
and a hostile ex- 
pression, especially 
with a combination 
of a forward and 
a sideward move- 
ment imparts a 
physical threat 
(Fig. 31, P a ge 65). 
This sideward 
leaning of the head, as has been said, 
exercised toward a person. If, then, the eyes look in the 
same direction as that in which the chin is advanced, which 
means in an opposite direction from the inclination of the 
forehead, thought appears to be withheld from the person 
or his opinions. If the eyebrow be normal, this may rep- 
resent slight suspicion (Fig. 102, page 171), and if they be 





FIG- 102.— AMIABLE 
SUSPICION. 

See pages 171, 186. 



FIG. 103— UNAMIABLE 
SUSPICION. 

See pages 171, 177. 

suggests emotion 



knit, strong disapproval or sch< 



(Fig. 103, page 171 



The head thrust forward, the eyes looking forward, and 
the brow in advance, represents more mental force, as in 



1/2 PAINTING, SCULPTURE, AND ARCHITECTURE. 



intelligent questioning (Fig. 104, page 172), serious doubt 
or perplexity (Fig. 89, page 148), or strong assertion (see 
the author in Fig. 29, page 63). The same forward move- 
ment of the head and glance of the eye with the head 
falling slightly, then lifting immediately, as in the ordi- 
nary nod, which need not be illustrated, indicates that the 
man, after considering whether or not there is any neces- 
sity of placing himself in an attitude of serious questioning 
or assertion, has found none. The action therefore ex- 
presses his acceptance of existing conditions. It gives 
assent. A hostile expression of 
countenance with the head thrust 
forward, the eye looking forward, 
and the brow in advance, especially 
if the movement be sideward, also 
conveys a more thoughtful and 
calculating threat than when the 
chin is in advance (see Fig. 73, 
page 132). The mere leaning of 
the head to one side when thus 
thrust forward with the eyes look- 
ing in the same direction in which 
the brow is advanced, indicates, 
if the eyebrows be normal and 
friendly, affection mingled with respect and confidence 
exercised toward the one toward whom the brow leans 
(Fig. 105, page 173) ; but if the eyebrows be knit and hos- 
tile, the same position may indicate a menace toward one 
respected enough to be feared (see the man at the left in 
Fig. 160, page 271). 

If, when the head is thrust forward, the eyesjook^zwz- 
zvard, the position indicates that the man is conscious of 
the subject of thought, whether a person or an idea, as 




FIQ. 104.— THOUGHTFUL 

ATTENTION. 

See pages 119, 172, 187. 



REPRESS NTA TION THROUGH HEAD AMD PACE. I 73 

socially, intellectually, or morally below his sight, concep- 
tion, or control. If then the features of his countenance 
be restful and non-excited, he is endeavoring to examine, 
study, or master the subject, — in a weak way, if his chin 
be in advance (see the man sitting on the table in Fig. 29, 
page 6}), and in a strong way if his brow be in advance 
(Fig. 106, page 174). But if his facial muscles indicate un- 
pleasant excitation, the position represents, if the chin be 
in advance, force prepared to resist opposing conditions, 
which, as the eyes are looking downward, the man feels 
that he might master, and for tole- 
rating which, therefore, he feels 
accountable. Notice the uneasy 
but ambitious face in Fig. 107, 
page 174. But if the brow be in 
advance, this indictes a mental 
apprehension of opposition and 
difficulty without force for physical 
resistance. In this case the sub- 
jects may be conceived in many 
different ways, as deeply sorrowful gee I72> 

(Fig. 108, page 174), as deeply per- 
plexing(Fig. 109, page 175), as frightful (Fig. 129, page 186), 
or as dangerous (Fig. 126, page 184). The leaning of the 
head sideward as well as forward, with the eyes downward, 
indicates a sympathetic bias. But whether this bias be in 
favor of a man or against him — especially as the eyes are 
not always visible — must be made out from the facial ex- 
pression. Thus the face of the John, in Fig. 92, page 1 50, 
indicates love exercised toward Peter ; but with reference 
to a subject conceived to be below sight, conception, or 
control, and therefore capable of being understood and 
mastered, if necessary. The leaning of the head of the 




FIQ. 105— CONFIDENCE. 



174 PAINTING, SCULPTURE, AND ARCHITECTURE. 

woman in Fig. 80, page 159, expresses confidence in the 
Christ, together with a consciousness of shame in view of 
conduct which, as it was under her control, she might 
have avoided. 

If, with the head still thrust forward, the eyes look up- 
ward, one conceives of the subject of thought as socially, 
intellectually, or morally above his sight, conception, or 
control. The position in connection with a calm, non- 
excited expression of countenance indicates, if the chin 
be in advance, submission, with reference mainly to vital 
conditions, as in Fig. 82, page 143 ; if the brow be forward, 




FIG. 106.— GALILEO. 
See page 173. 



FIG. 107.— AMBITION. 
See pages 173, 186. 



FIG. 108.— HOPELESSNESS. 
See pages 173, 186. 



mental submission, as in Fig. no, page 175 ; also in the 
kneeling forms in Fig. 35, page 72. The same position, in 
connection with an excited expression of countenance, in- 
dicates enforced submission, causing, if the chin be in ad- 
vance, either an effect of weak mentality, as in Fig. 100, 
page 167, or decided physical apprehension, as in Fig. 21, 
page 49, Fig. 95, page 157, and Fig. 121, page 181, and 
mental apprehension if the forehead be in advance, as in 
Fig. 128, page 186. As in all cases in which the head leans 
to one side, the chin or forehead projected in the same 
direction as an upward side glance of the eye, suggests an 



REPRESENTATION- THROUGH HEAD AND FACE. 1 75 




FIQ. 109.— APPREHENSIVE 
ATTENTION. 

See page 173. 



influence, physical or mental, exerted by others. Notice 
again Fig. no, page 175, and Fig. 128, page 186. 

Now let us consider the significance 
of the head and eyes when the former 
is drawn backward or, if sideward, 
away from the object of contemp- 
lation. This action, in accordance 
with what was said on page 129, is 
mental and reflective. If, when it is 
made, the eyes gaze forward, then, 
in case the chin be in advance, mere 
mentality is subordinated to physical 
considerations (see Fig. 27, page 61), 
sometimes merely because abstract 
thought is waived in view of that 
which, on the physical plane, for the 
time being, excites interest (Figs. 101, page 169, also III, 
page 176), surprises or puzzles (Fig. 112, page 176), or, if 

the countenance be distorted, 
horrifies (Fig. 113, page 176), 
or arouses to intensified rage 
(Fig. 122, page 181). Because 
of the reflection suggested in 
this last face, however, the men- 
ace given is less forcible than 
when the head is thrust for- 
ward as in Fig. 73, page 132. 
According to what has been said 
before, the leaning of the head 
to one side, in connection with 
this same movement, introduces 
a stronger suggestion of the presence of persons in con- 
nection with the presentation of the subject that is being 




FIQ. 110.— RELIGIOUS RAPTURE. 
See pages 174, 175, 179. 



I?6 PAINTING, SCUIPTVRE, AND ARCHITECTURE. 




considered. When the chin points in the same direction 
as the eye, or what is the same thing, when the forehead 
leans away from the person toward whom one is looking, 
this indicates that thought is with- 
held from accord with that of this 
person on account, perhaps, of pride, 
as in Fig. 114, page 177, or of slight 
suspicion, Fig. Ill, page 176, or of 
stubbornness, as in Fig. 112, page 
176, or of more malevolent feelings, 
as in Figs. 50, page 99, and 122, 
page 181. If with the head held back 
and the eyes gazing forward, the 
brow be in advance, there is more 
emphatic evidence of the influence of 
thought. Nor does the man conceive either of himself 
or of the opinion which he happens at the time to hold, 
as subordinate to any other, although, in the degree in 




FIG. 111.— UNCONFIDINQ 
ATTENTION. 

See pages 175, 176 





FIG. 112— UNCONVINCED ATTENTION. 
See pages 167, 169, 175, 176, 178, 185. 



FIG. 113.— DESPAIR. 
See pages 175, 185. 



which the eyes gaze directly at those in front, or at one 
side, they indicate that this opinion is held by persons 
in some regards on a social, intellectual, or moral level 



REP RE SEN TA TION THR UGH HE A D A ND PACE. I J J 



with himself (Fig. 63, page 1 16). The same attitude might 
indicate, if accompanied by a knit brow, a hostile mood 
(Fig. 115, page 177), possibly only a suspicious mood 




FIG. 114. 
UNCONFIDINQ PRIDE 

See pages 167, 176 



See pages 177, 185. 



FIQ. 111 
SATISFIED CONFIDENCE. 

See page 177. 



(Fig. 103, page 171), or, if accompanied by a sneer, an 
egotistic or contemptuous mood (see the man at the right 
in Fig. 29, page 63), or, if accompanied by a troubled 
look, an aggrieved or affrighted 
mood, as in those at the left of 
Ananias in Fig. 39, page 79. 

If, while the head is held back, 
the eyes with a satisfied look be 
directed to one side to a person 
toward whom the forehead leans, 
this indicates that thought has a 
leaning toward that person. It 
represents confidence, especially in 
his judgment (Fig. 116, page 177), 
and, as the head is held back, men- 
tal assurance that the confidence 

is not misplaced. If, however, the eyes have a frightened 
look, this position may represent the extreme of fear 




FIQ. 117.— IMPUDENCE. 
See pages 167, 178. 



1/8 PAINTING, SCULPTURE, AND ARCHITECTURE. 



in view of that to which mentality finds itself obliged to 
surrender (Fig. 132, page 188). 

If with the head held back the eyes gaze downward, 
and the chin be in advance, the man has waived the ex- 
penditure of thought upon a subject because he conceives 
of it as sociably, intellectually, or morally below the level 
of his sight, comprehension, or control. 

The position when very emphatic indicates dissent 
together with unwillingness to weigh evidence (Fig. 112, 

page 176) ; also, to one looking 
backward too, haughtiness, su- 
perciliousness, impudence (Fig. 
117, page 177), and, in a hos- 
tile countenance, contemptuous 
rage (Fig. 122, page 181). But 
if the brow be in advance, it 
indicates that, while the man 
still conceives himself to be 
master of the subject, he is will- 
ing to expend his mental ener- 
gies upon it. Notice the sug- 
gestion of moral superiority, 
though connected with an ap- 
peal to reason, in the man mak- 
ing the upward finger gesture 
in Fig. 39, page 79 ; also the suggestion of intellectual 
superiority in the man, who is nevertheless paying at- 
tention, at the right in Fig. 29, page 63 ; and, once more, 
the malicious confidence in the results of his own plots 
manifested in the hostile countenance in Fig. 50, page 
99. 

If, with the head held back and not inclining to either 
side, the eyes gaze upward, the man conceives of the 




FIG. 118— FAITH. 
See page 179. 



REPRESEHTA TIOH THROUGH HEAD AND FACE. 1 79 



source of subordination as something above his sight, com- 
prehension, or control. If then his chin be in advance, 
the position indicates, according to the expression of the 
other features, that his own mental comprehension or 
control is waived on account either of faith in a higher 
power (Fig. 118, page 178), or fear of it (Fig. 119, page 
179). If then the face also lean to one side, as it does to 
an extent in Fig. 1 18, with the eyes looking upward in the 
same direction, this may indicate indifference to lower or 
worldly subjects or persons on account of enthusiastic 





FIQ. 119.— APPREHENSIVE ASTONISHMENT. 
See pages 179, 185. 



FIQ. 120.— TRIUMPH. 

See page 179. 



recognition of help from a source higher than ordinarily 
comes to men, giving an expression of religious rapture as 
in Fig. 1 10, page 175 ; or, aided by emphasis of chin and 
lower lip, of irreligious triumph, as in Fig. 120, page 179. 
The head held back, with the eyes upward and the brow 
in advance, is an almost impossible position ; but there is 
a suggestion of it in Fig. 63, page 116, and Fig. 12 r, page 
181. In both cases it joins to the conception of higher 
control, the feeling that this is acting through the man's 
own mentality. Napoleon is the " man of destiny " ; and 
Fig. 121 hints of one conscious that he himself has been 



l8o PAINTING, SCULPTURE, AND ARCHITECTURE. 

a co-worker with fate in producing the trouble which has 
overtaken him. 

The head held in its normal position, neither thrust 
forward nor drawn backward, representing, as it does, no 
bias in the direction either of vital energy or of mental suf- 
ficiency, shows supremacy of the motive, higher emotive, 
or moral nature. In these circumstances, there is some- 
times more opportunity for emphasizing the distinctively 
emotional representations of the sideward movements of 
the head. Its inclination alternately to one side and 
then to the other, indicates a balancing between ten- 
dencies for or against a person or project, therefore uncer- 
tainty ; if persistently made, then settled uncertainty or 
indifference ; if flippantly made, then impotence in view of 
that to which one is indifferent or of things conceived to 
be trivial. A rotary movement of the head held in any 
position, seems to have the effect of shaking off influ- 
ence, or like the closing gesture, of closing the channels 
of communication between the one who makes it and 
others. It signifies, if the eyes look toward the person to 
whom it is made, negation, rejection ; and if the eyes and 
face be turned away from him, it includes, with these, the 
idea of distrust. 

Owing to the difficulty, in certain cases, of distinguish- 
ing from one another a forward, a backward, and a normal 
position of the head considered as a whole, similar impres- 
sions are sometimes conveyed by each of them. For this 
reason, there have been some necessary repetitions in these 
explanations. But it is hoped that they have been made 
as few as possible. 

Now let us consider the operation of the muscles that 
control the expression of the countenance. Their actions 
may be best interpreted, as intimated on page 149, by 



REPRESENTA TION THROUGH HEAD AND FACE. iSl 



comparing them with those produced by the hand-gestures. 
These, as made with the fist, the finger, and the palm 
turned away from the gesturer or towards him, all have 
correspondences in the adjustments of the muscles of the 
face, and have also corresponding meanings. It is possi- 
ble, for instance, by a rigid action of the muscles, to make 
the whole face produce the physical suggestions of a fist 
(see Fig. 51, page 99). Recalling that the gestures of 
the mouth are more particularly vital ; those of the eye, 
mental ; and those of the nostrils, emotive; there certainly 





FIQ. 121. -RAGE AND FEAR. 

Seepages 174, 181, 184, 

186, 189. 



FIG. 122.— CONTEMPTUOUS RAGE. 

See pages 175, 176, 178,181, 

182, 183, 186, 189. 



can be no doubt of the physical menace imparted by the 
firm-set teeth, and the lowering and knit eyebrows. 
These are sometimes accompanied by an opening mouth 
(Fig. 121, page 181), and sometimes by rigidly swelling 
nostrils (Fig. 122, page 181), both serving to give greater 
breadth of effect. They seem to give this because, while 
the physical and mental natures are gathering, and, as it 
were, girding their powers for the conflict, the emotive 
nature is still wide open to the influences from without, 
and drawing into the soul every draft of insult like the 



82 PAINTING, SCUIPTURE, AND ARCHITECTURE, 



breath on which it is freighted, to help fan the flame of 
indignation. 

It is possible, again, to give to the face the more subtly 
mental effect of a finger gesture. Notice the puckering of 
the lips, as if pointing to an object, when one is uttering the 
expression, " whew ! " and the vertical wrinkling of the fore- 
head between the eyebrows, together with the contracting 
of the nose, when thought is concentrated, in order to point, 

as it were, to some single ob- 
ject of consideration (Figs. 
123, page 182 ;64,page 117). 
Once more, as when 
using the hands, it is pos- 
sible, either with or with- 
out the aid of the facial 
movements just mention- 
ed, to produce motive or 
emotive effects correspond- 
ing to those represented 
by what has been termed 
the closing gesture, made 
with the palm turned away 
from the gesturer, as also 
by what has been termed 
the opening gesture, made 
with the palm not turned 
thus. There is no doubt, for instance, that the emphatic 
closing of the mouth, which is the organ of speech repre- 
senting the most physical or material effects of thought, 
indicates a closing of the channels of influence (see Figs. 
122, page 181, 123, page 182, and 51, page 99). It means 
that the man does not propose to let his opinions, his mo- 
tives, or his emotive condition be easily changed by any 




FIG. 123.— REFLECTION. 

Upper Part of Orbicularis Palpebrarum Muscle. 

Seepages 182, 184, 185, 186, 188. 



RE PRE SEN TA TION THR O UGII HE A D A ND FA CE. 1 8 3 



consideration presented from without. Nor is it uppermost 
in his mind to endeavor to change these conditions in 
others. He is simply emphasizing, in a determined way, 
his own mood and impressions. When the mouth is not 
only closed, but drawn down at the sides, then it indicates 
rejection and displeasure, a more decided closing of the 
channels of sympathy (Figs. 124, page 183, and 122, page 
181). Combined with more 
contraction of the muscles, 
it indicates still more dis- 
pleasure, or discontent, 
and like the doubling up 
of the fist, as has been said, 
a determination to change 
physical conditions (Fig. 
51, page 99). The open- 
ing of the mouth, on the 
contrary, indicates the 
opening of the channel of 
influence, and, therefore, 
that a man is ready both 
to receive and to impart 
(see Figs. 125, page 184, 
to 129, page 186). If the 
lips expand also at the 
sides, as in the smile, they 

indicate an opening of the channels of influence to that 
which is pleasant and welcome in one's surroundings 
(Figs. 127, page 185, and 52, page 100). But in the 
degree in which the sides are drawn together and, as 
usually in such cases, downward, they indicate that which 
is conceived to be grave and serious (Fig. 126, page 184), 
if not scornful (Fig. 124, page 183) and threatening (Fig. 




FIG. 124— CONTEMPT AND DISCONTENT. 

Triangular Muscle of the Lips. 

See pages 121, 183, 185, 188. 



1 84 PAINTING, SCULPTURE, AND ARCHITECTURE. 



51, page 99). When not only the lips, but the whole 
mouth is slightly open, this indicates great interest either 
as applied to what is pleasing (Figs. 125, page 184, 127, 
page 185, and 52, page 100) or alarming (Figs. 126, page 
184, 128, page 186, 129, page 186). Notice also the alarm 
combined with rage in Fig. 121, page 181. Thus the 
opening mouth seems to indicate that the man is drinking 
in whatever is seen or heard. When, in addition to this, 
the lips seem brought forward, as when uttering " whew ! " 





FIG. 125.— CURIOSITY. 

See pages 183. 184, 187. 



FIG. 126.— APPREHENSIVE GRIEF. 
See pages 173, 183, 184, 187. 



which is usually accompanied by that wrinkling of the fore- 
head between the eyebrows noticed in Fig. 123, page 182, 
thought is pointing, as has just been intimated, to what 
excites wonder and amazement. Add to this a rigid 
effect of the muscles, but without that closing of the 
mouth which indicates a purpose and power to resist the 
influence from without, and, if the lips be opened mainly 
at their centres, we have so far as the mouth alone can 
indicate it, apprehension (Fig. 126, page 184); if they be 
drawn downward at the sides, we have crying (Fig. 128, 



REPRESENTATION THROUGH II EAD AND FACE. 



185 



page 186); if accompanied by a contraction of the sides, 
we have despair or terror (Figs. 1 13, page 176 ; 129, page 
186; 132, page 188); and if they be opened at both the 
centres and sides, as if physical will-power in the lips were 
paralyzed, we have horror or the like (Figs. 133, page 118; 
119, page 179). 

Turning now to the parts of the face less closely con- 
nected with the material manifestations of thought in 
speech, there can be no 
doubt that bringing the 
eyebrows nearer together 
as in Figs. 123, page 182 ; 
124, page 183 ; 127, page 
185 ; and 131, page 187, 
indicates like the finger 
gesture a concentration of 
thought upon some par- 
ticular subject or person. 
It is equally clear that the 
lowering of the eyebrows, 
as in Fig. 123, page 182, 
and 112, page 176, indi- 
cates, like the closing ges- 
ture, a closing of the chan- 
nel of influence. The man 
does not intend to receive 
or accept what he hears without serious question ; and, 
possibly, he deliberately intends to reject and oppose it, 
as in Figs. 51, page 99, and 115, page 177. When the 
brows are both knit together and lowered, they may, in 
connection with swelling nostrils and compressed lips, 
produce, as has been said, the effect of the fist gesture, 
as in Fig. 51, page 99. The lifting of the eyebrows, 




FIGL 127.— LAUGHTER AND GAYETY. 
Great Zygomatic Muscles. 
See pages 121, 183, 184, 185, 187. 



1 86 PAINTING, SCULPTURE, AND ARCHITECTURE. 

which has the effect of opening the space about the eyes, 
always, like the opening gesture, indicates acceptance or 
communication, sometimes willing, as in the expression 
of surprise (Fig. 130, page 187); and sometimes unwill- 
ing, as in that of sorrowful solicitude (Fig. 131, page 187), 
where the knit brows accompanying the opening move- 
ment show that the matter demands serious concentration 
of thought. When, in connection with this, the muscles 
and eyes assume a rigid, staring appearance, as if exerting 
in vain all effort to shut out the impending trouble, we 
have the expressions of enforced acceptance, solicitude, 





FIG. 128.— DISAPPOINTED DESIRE. 
See pages 174, 175, 179, 184, 185. 



FIQ. 129.— TERROR. 
See pages 173, 183, 184, 185, 188. 



and hostility combined which in various degrees indicate 
fright, horror, rage, and fury, as in Figs. 132, page 188; 
133, page 188; 121, page 181; and 122, page 181. 

The eyes, considered by themselves, also have corre- 
sponding effects. Slightly closed, they indicate a critical 
mood, which is unwilling or, at least, hesitates either to 
receive or to impart (Figs. 102, page 171 ; 107, page 174; 
123, page 182). Wholly closed, as in contrition and grief, 
they denote a positive wish to do neither (Fig. 80, page 1 39 ; 



REPRESENTA TION THROUGH HEAD AND FACE. I 87 

Fig. 108, page 174). In their normal open condition, with 
the lids slightly falling and the brows unwrinkled, they 
indicate an open mind (Fig. 59, page 109). Expanded 
slightly by wrinkles at the sides and underneath, they 
indicate a welcome to that which is pleasant in the sur- 
roundings (Fig. 127, page 185). Expanded slightly up- 
ward, with the lids and brows both lifting, they indicate 




FIQ. 130. 
ATTENTION AND ASTONISHMENT : Con- 
traction OF FRONTAL MUSCLES. 

See pages 186, 187. 



FIG. 131. 
SORROW : Superciliary Muscle. 

See pages 185, 186, 188. 



a welcome, either free or enforced, to that which is im- 
portant, the vertical direction here as elsewhere being the 
motive or moral one (Figs. 104, page 172 ; 125, page 184 ; 
126, page 184). When this expansion becomes more 
marked above the eyebrows, and the muscles causing it 
become more rigid, expectancy, surprise, amazement be- 
gin to be expressed (Fig. 1 30, page 1 87). In the last effect 



1 88 PAINTING, SCULPTURE, AND ARCHITECTURE. 

there begins to be much wrinkling of the forehead above 
the eyes. When, in addition to this, there comes to be 
a contraction of the forehead, bringing the brows nearer 
together, the idea of concentrating tjiought upon the cause 
of amazement, which is now considered serious, is intro- 
duced, and we have fright (Fig. 132, page 188, or horror, 
Fig. 133, page 188). When there is added to the opening 
effect the lowering of the brows at the temples, there 
comes to be a suggestion of solicitude, as already ex- 
plained (Fig. 131, page 187). When there is an opening, 





FIG. 132.— FEAR. 
Seepages 178, 185, 186, 



FIQ. 133.— ASTONISHED HORROR. 
See pages 185, 186, 188. 



a contracting, and a lowering effect, all three together, 
then there is evidence of fright combined with prolonged 
solicitude — that is, of terror (Fig. 129, page 186). 

The drawing down of the muscles about the nostrils is 
necessarily connected with the effect which is called the 
" drawing up " of the nose. Like the finger-gesture, it 
always points, sometimes merely in an interested way, as 
in Fig. 123, page 182 ; but sometimes in a hostile stigma- 
tizing way, as in Fig. 124, page 183. In the latter case it 



REPRESENTA TION THROUGH HEAD AND FA CE. 1 89 

indicates the emotive phase of rejection, i. e., disdain ; 
and is used with the closing movements of the mouth and 
eyes, already described, only when disdain is expressed 
in addition to what they express. The rigidity of the 
movement puts force into it (Fig. 51, page 99); and the 
expanding of the nostrils, while it takes from the effect 
of pointing, increases the effect of largeness and import- 
ance (Fig. 122, page 181). The open nostril means an 
open soul, and if rigidly opened it indicates, as was inti- 
mated when speaking of it as used in connection with the 
firm-set teeth, passion and rage (Fig. 121, page 181). 

The reader may now be interested in noticing how 
these various conclusions have been epitomized into 
lines representative of the directions assumed by the dif- 
ferent features of the face when giving expression to cer- 
tain typical sentiments. Here are the three principal 
figures used by the Dutch Humbert de Superville in his 
well known work on the " Signes Inconditionnels de 
l'Art." 






FIG. 134.— CALMNESS. FIG. 135.— GAYETY. FIG- 136.— SADNESS. 

Three Diagrams of Humbert de Superville. 

And on the next page are similar figures, taken from 
Duval's "Artistic Anatomy." 

Any movement, merely playful, that increases the ap- 
parent size of any of the features, like the pouting of the 



;i. 





FIQ. 137— REFLECTION. 



FIQ. 138.— LAUGHTER. 






FIQ. 139— SORROW. 



FIQ. 140.-ATTENTION AND FIQ. 141.— DISCONTENT 
ASTONISHMENT. AND CONTEMPT. 





FIQ. 142— GRIEF. 



FIQ. 143.— GRIEF AND FEAR. 



I go 



L 



RE PRE SEAT TA TION THRO UGH THE EA CE A JV£> HE A D. 1 9 1 

lips, the staring of the eyes, or the swelling of the cheeks 
or nostrils, merely caricatures the effects, vital, mental, or 
emotive, that would be produced by these features if 
really as large as represented. In the countenance, as 
elsewhere, comic effects are produced, too, by a combina- 
tion of extravagance and incongruity ; the latter, for ex- 
ample, by having one part of the face represent one set 
of emotions, and another part another set, or by having 
the whole countenance represent emotions diametrically 
the opposite of those that the circumstances warrant. 



CHAPTER XI. 

REPRESENTATION BY MEANS OF COLOR. 

Correspondence between the Effects of Tone in Sounds and of Color in 
Scenes — Mental Effects of Different Degrees of Light — Instinctive, Re- 
flective, and Emotive Effects — Effects of Pitch and Quality in Color, as 
in Sound, very Closely Allied — Representative Effects of Different 
Qualities of Tone — Their Correspondences in Colors — Cold Colors and 
Normal or Pure Tones as Instinctive — Warm Colors and Orotund Tones 
as Reflective — Varied Colors as Emotive — Confirmation of these Corre- 
spondences from Facts of Experience — From the Use of Color in Paint- 
ing — Especially the Human Countenance — In Sculpture — In Architec- 
ture — Representation of Natural Effects of Distance through Cold and 
Warm Colors in Painting — In Architecture — Correspondence between 
the Effects of Mixed Tones and Colors — Representative Influence of 
Black— With Cold Colors— With Warm Colors— Of White with Cold 
Colors — With Warm Colors — Further Illustrations — Conclusion. 

T N certain circumstances, which need not now be ex- 
plained, color gives to paintings and to both the ex- 
teriors and interiors of buildings an effect which, in 
popular parlance, is termed tone. The fact that this term 
is used at all, indicates how wide is the recognition of at 
least some correspondence between that to which it ap- 
plies and an effect produced by the pitch and quality of 
sounds to which alone it was applied primarily. This 
recognition, mainly, has suggested the present chapter. 

We can best come to understand the significance of 
elements of expression by considering their significance 

192 



REPRESENTATION BY MEANS OF COLOR. 1 93 

in extreme cases. Color is a condition attributable to 
light. Let us begin by asking what is represented by 
different degrees of light ; and, first, by its absence. 
Where there is no light, the mind may nevertheless be in- 
fluenced by sounds ; and these, of course, may cause us 
to imagine sights ; but imagined sights are not those that 
we are now considering. So far as concerns possible 
scenes, when these are not perceived by us, they cannot, 
as scenes, exert any influence. Our thoughts are as little 
aroused to effort by them as are our bodies to activity, 
when compelled to grope their way in darkness. When 
there comes to be a little light, however, we can see forms 
but not colors, or these only as they seem to be very dim 
and dark. In this condition the mind is not greatly in- 
terested in objects nor aroused to thought by them. For 
now it sees too few of them, and the few that it does see, 
it sees too indistinctly. But let the light increase, and in 
the degree in which it does so outlines become more 
marked and colors more bright ; while the mind perceiv- 
ing a larger number and variety of objects comes to have 
a larger number and variety of definite thoughts concern- 
ing them. 

These self-evident facts will enable us to analyze the 
effects of color in accordance with the principles unfolded 
on page 19. It will be noticed that, from what has 
just been said, the deduction is inevitable that the 
tendency to the exertion of effects upon the mind is 
necessarily increased with the increase of light. Indeed, it 
is possible to conceive that this alone might cause all the 
difference between what might be termed the instinctive, 
because indiscriminative, views of life possessed by an 
animal and the discriminative or reflective results of 
human intelligence. But far more important, as related 



194 PAINTING, SCULPTURE, AND ARCHITECTURE. 

to this subject of color, than are any instinctive or reflec- 
tive tendencies represented by these extremes of differ- 
ence, is the emotive tendency represented by the dif- 
ferent degrees between these extremes, where both exist 
in combination. When the light is slight, the thought 
awakened by objects is not only, as a rule, slight in quan- 
tity, but what there is of it is not usually pleasant in 
quality. The doubtful delineation of the outlines is apt 
to perplex and annoy the mind, if not, as is sometimes 
the case, to alarm it by a sense of insecurity. This is to 
say that the appearances of nature, when, owing to cir- 
cumstances, they seem robed either in no distinguishable 
colors or in very dark ones, are not, as a rule, satisfactory, 
interesting, cheering, or inspiring ; but that sometimes they 
cause depression and even solicitude. With more light, 
however, the outlines and colors become more visible, 
bright and varied, and not only the satisfaction but the 
excitation derivable from them is increased. These effects 
continue to be enhanced up to the time, if it ever arrive, 
when the colors are no longer distinguishable, because 
the light has become too dazzling. But at this point the 
disagreeableness of the effect is produced, not because 
attention is aroused too slightly, but too greatly, as, for 
instance, by the direct rays of the sun or by a flash of 
lightning. In all cases, however, even in these latter two, 
notice the additional excitation to the emotions produced 
by variety. Sunlight or lightning is never so vivid as 
when made to contrast sharply with absolute darkness, 
as in a cave or a cloud. Nor is a bright red or yellow 
ever so effective as when placed directly against a dull 
blue-green or indigo. We may say, therefore, that, as 
a rule, dark colors or shades of them which result when 
the colors, as determined by the spectrum, are dimly 



REPRESENTATION- BY MEANS OF COLOR. 195 

illumined, as also unvarying colors, are less exciting to 
the emotions than are bright and varied ones. 

Before illustrating these statements by referring to the 
actual use of colors in nature and in art, let us look at the 
general subject from another point of view. A considera- 
tion of the amount of light illumining a color cannot well 
be separated from a consideration of the character and 
mixture of the light constituting the color. Indeed, as 
shown in Chapters XII. to XV. of the essay of " Rhythm 
and Harmony in Poetry and Music, " the same statement 
might be made with reference to the consideration of pitch 
and of quality in sound to which these two effects in sight 
are analogous. Just as the quality of sound is determined 
by the pitch of the different partial tones of which a note 
is compounded, so the quality of a color is determined 
by the hues which result from the different partial 
effects of light of which the rays producing it are com- 
pounded. For instance, when, in a screen shutting out 
the light from a darkened room, we make a narrow slit, 
and through this allow the light to enter, and receiving 
this light on a prism separate one ray of the light into 
various partial rays of the same, all the colors of the spec- 
trum will appear on a white wall opposite the window. 
But the red color will appear nearest the place on which 
the white light would have fallen, had we used no prism, 
and, farther and farther from this place, will appear 
respectively, in this order, orange, yellow, green, blue, 
and purple. For this reason, the first three of these col- 
ors are supposed to be most nearly allied to light as 
well as, according to some, to the fire and heat which we 
naturally associate with the sources of light. Red, orange, 
and yellow, and their allied colors, are therefore termed 
bright or warm ; and green, blue, and purple, dark or cold. 



I96 PAINTING, SCULPTURE, AND ARCHITECTURE. 

The very fact of the use of these terms shows the close 
connection between the influence of light and darkness 
upon the amount of color, as indicated on page 1 94, and its 
influence upon the kind of color ; and why, therefore, it is 
better, as has been suggested, to consider the two together. 
As preparatory to doing this intelligently, let us observe 
a few more analogies between the effects of quality in 
tone and in color. Quality in tone, as stated in Chapter XI. 
of " Poetry as a Representative Art," as also in Chapter 
VI. of " Music as a Representative Art," is particularly 
expressive of the feelings. Of the different kinds of quality 
that known as the pure or normal — the tone of ordinary 
utterance — is best represented by the short vowels in 
poetry, and by the flute in music. The orotund tone — 
that of agreeably exhilarated utterance — is best repre- 
sented by the long vowels and tonic consonants in poetry 
and by the horns in music. The aspirate tone or whisper, 
indicative of secrecy either of sympathy or alarm, — a tone 
used generally in connection with other tones to augment 
the feeling expressed in them — is best represented by the 
aspirate consonants in poetry and by the violins in music. 
The hollow pectoral tone indicating horror is best repre- 
sented by the round vowels together with strongly aspir- 
ated or atonic consonants in poetry, and by the larger and 
lower wind instruments in music ; and the guttural tone in- 
dicating hostility is best represented by the consonants 
approaching the g-sounds in poetry and by the sharper 
metallic sounds in connection with the cymbals and drums 
in music. The normal and orotund tones are musical and 
pure ; the aspirate, in itself considered, is merely an ab- 
sence of tone ; and the pectoral and guttural are unmusical 
and impure in the sense of being mixed. They are always 
very largely mixed, too, with the aspirate. For further 



REPRESENTATION BY MEANS OF COLOR. 1 97 

description of these tones see " The Orator's Manual," pp. 
94-105. 

The significance represented by these tones, as used 
in elocution, is indisputable. Reference is made to them 
here for the purpose not merely of showing the unity of 
method in different parts of this system, but also for the 
purpose of accomplishing that for which this unity of 
method is intended to be serviceable. In this place, it will 
serve to aid us in determining the significance of pure and 
of mixed colors. The correspondence seems exact be- 
tween the influence of normal- tone and of the cold colors ; 
the influence of the orotund tone and of the warm colors ; 
the influence of the pleasurable aspirate and of white ; 
and the influence of the solicitous aspirate and of black. 
The correspondence is less exact, but still sufficiently so 
for our purpose, between the pectoral tone and the cold 
colors used in combination with black, and between the 
guttural tone and the warm colors used in combination 
with black. 

We will take up, first, the distinction between the pure 
tone, i. e., between the distinctively pure or normal tone, 
and the orotund. In elocution, the former is not neces- 
sarily a cultivated tone, but the latter, the orotund, is. 
The former therefore suggests the natural, and the latter 
the artistic. Is not the same true with reference to the 
classes of color to which these have been said to corre- 
spond ? Just as the normal or pure tone is that of ordi- 
nary natural intercourse, are not the cold colors, the 
greens, blues and purples, those of ordinary natural life ? 
Is it not true that for nine-tenths of all the time, nine- 
tenths of all the surfaces of the globe, — i. c, the lakes, skies, 
hills, forests, fields, rocks, distant and near, — are robed in 
these colors ? The warmer colors, the reds, oranges, and 



I98 PAINTING, SCULPTURE, AND ARCHITECTURE. 

yellows, appear occasionally in nature in the sunset sky, 
the autumn foliage, the hues of flowers, the plumage of 
birds, and the coating of animals ; but it is remarkable 
how seldom they appear at all, how little surface, com- 
paratively, they cover when they do appear, how infre- 
quently they appear in their full intensity, and how, 
universally, when they do appear in this, they are con- 
sidered exceptional and worthy of remark. They certainly 
are not nature's normal colors. Man cannot dye anything 
bluer or greener than he can often see in the sea and sky 
and forest ; but nowhere in the world can he raise a red 
or orange flag that will not instantly be recognized as 
something different from anything in nature, and, there- 
fore, as something that is signalling the presence of man. 
Hence the use of these colors, especially of red, by sur- 
veying parties, and on railways, piers, and battle-fields. 
Such colors are the ones that are most suggestive of human 
interference. As used in art, therefore, they are the 
colors representing the condition upon which the thought 
of the artist has had the greatest influence, or, according 
to the phraseology that we have been using, the colors 
which most naturally give expression to the mental or 
reflective tendencies. The colors at the other end of the 
spectrum, the greens, blues, purples, being less suggestive 
that the elements of form have been changed from the 
state in which they are found in nature, are, of course, the 
ones that most naturally give expression to the physical 
or instinctive tendencies. 

With these facts, however, we need also to bear in mind 
that which is a logical inference from what was said on 
page 194, namely, that all very low and uniform shades 
even if of yellows, oranges, and reds, — have a quieting 
effect, and all very high and — because contrasts emphasize 



REPRESENTATION BY MEANS OE COLOR. 1 99 

one another, and most contrasts of cold colors are warm x — 
all contrasting tints, even if of purples, blues, and greens, 
have an exciting effect. To compare these conditions 
again with those of pitch in elocution and music, this, if 
low and monotonous, indicates what is serious, grave, 
dignified, and self-controlled, and, if high and varied, the 
opposite. Does it require an argument to show how per- 
fectly these analogies are carried out as applied to colors? 
Do we not all recognize the more exciting and exhilarating 
effects of these when full of brightness and contrast ? Who 
has not noticed the difference in influence between a lawn 
and a flower-bed ? or between a room decorated with ever- 
greens and the same decorated with chrysanthemums? 
or between a uniformly clouded gray sky, and a sky 
lighted up with the diversified glories of the sun- 
set? or between the dulness and monotony of a 
business street when the shop-entrances are hung with 
dingy clothing for sale, or the sidewalks filled with peo- 
ple in dark business suits, and the same streets when 
hung with bright and varied flags on a gala day, or 
crowded with throngs decked out in the gay and check- 
ered trappings of a carnival or holiday parade? Of 
course, uniformity of color, like uniformity of outlines — 
as in parallelism — produces a certain seriousness and dig- 
nity of effect ; and any procession, the members of which 
are dressed alike and march alike, will produce something 
of this irrespective of the quality of the coloring. But 
there is a vast difference between the degree of serious- 
ness and dignity in the effect of a procession of priests 
and nuns robed in black or gray in a funeral or at 
church, and in that of militia uniformed in bright colors 
on a holiday or in a theatre. In the former case, it is 
impossible to conceive that any child, or a crowd of any 

1 Green-yellow of purple, red-orange of blue, and purple-red of green. 



200 PAINTING, SCULPTURE, AND ARCHITECTURE. 

kind, should require explanations, aside from those sug- 
gested by color alone, to keep them from growing wild 
with enthusiasm or being excited to cheers. In the latter 
case, this would be their most natural mode of expression. 
Notice, too, how much more the children's eyes dilate to 
welcome the regiment of soldiers clad in red and yellow, 
than the one arrayed in blue or gray. The latter colors 
may be the best for the ordinary manoeuvres of the bat- 
tle-field, more easily hidden by the smoke, more decep- 
tive in a question of distance. But in a charge, even 
upon an experienced veteran, the regiment clad in flaming 
red will be far more difficult to withstand. There is phi- 
losophy as well as fancy, therefore, that underlies the use 
of this in the costumes of the British regulars and of the 
French zouaves. Nothing having to do with color can 
compare with it in effect. These facts have been ex- 
plained according to the principle of association. It is 
said that red is the color of blood and fire, and suggests 
them. But does it suggest them to the bull and other 
animals whom it excites to fury? In these cases does it 
not act physically ? Physicists agree that there is no color 
that agitates the optic nerve so violently. There seem 
to be, therefore, just as in the case of outlines, principles 
both of association and of nature which cause certain 
kinds of colors and, to a less degree, all colors, when at 
their brightest, to be representative of emotive excita- 
tion, and certain other kinds of colors, and, to a less de- 
gree, all colors in their lower tones, to be representative 
of the opposite. 

All the great facts of nature are felt long before they 
are formulated. When the man born blind expressed his 
conception of the color red by saying that it was like the 
sound of a trumpet, he uttered not a poetic but a literal 



REPRESENTATION BY MEANS OF COLOR. 201 

truth. Just as red is the color that is farthest removed 
from the ordinary colors of nature, the blast of the trum- 
pet is the sound that is farthest removed from the ordi- 
nary sounds of nature. All pastoral symphonies abound 
in passages executed by the flutes and clarionets, and the 
violins and other stringed instruments. With the music 
produced by these, it seems natural to associate the sounds 
produced by the rustling and whistling of the wind, the 
rushing and dashing of the waters, and the occasional 
piping of a bird and the lowing of an animal. The drum 
and cymbal, too, may remind one of the exceptional thun- 
der of the storm, or the roll of the earthquake. But 
when the flutes and stringed instruments give way to 
the trumpet and allied instruments, then we feel that 
man is asserting his influence in the scene, and we listen, 
almost instinctively, for the sound of his tramping feet. 
It is only man that marches. It is only man that wages 
war, and it is only in martial music and in the expression 
of the passion of conflict and the pride of triumph that 
the blasts of the trumpet, announcing, as they do, more 
distinctively than any other musical sounds, the power 
and presence of the human being, realize to the full their 
representative mission. No wonder that even a blind 
man, at the end of the play, just as the curtain drops on 
the victorious conquerors, should be able to imagine how 
there should be an aesthetic connection between the bril- 
liant climax that is heard and the brilliant colors in the 
costumes and flags which are described to him as sur- 
rounding them and waving above them. 

The same principles must apply, of course, to the sig- 
nificance of color as used in painting and architecture. In 
the ordinary portraits of great men, in such paintings as 
Raphael's " School of Athens," Fig. I 56, page 249, in which 



202 PAINTING, SCULPTURE, AND ARCHITECTURE. 

we find grouped together the celebrated characters of 
many periods, or in a representation of solemnities like 
that in Jules Breton's " First Communion," the serious- 
ness and dignity of the subjects are such that we do not 
feel the need in the pigments of much brightness or 
contrast. But whenever anything is intended primarily to 
produce a powerful impression, it is best portrayed in 
this way. Hence one reason why Rubens with his 
high and varied coloring is so transcendently great in 
such representations of profound excitement as in the 
" Lion Hunt " and " The Crucifixion " which are in the 
gallery at Antwerp, or in the " Descent from the Cross," 
Fig. 163, page 277, and is so transcendently gross in sub- 
jects of a lighter character, as in many of those in the 
Old Pinakothek at Munich. 

But there is also another reason for this fact, and in 
connection with it, there is another confirmation of the 
general truth of the statements just made. It may be 
recognized by noticing the effects produced by colors 
upon pictures of the human countenance. So far as this 
latter is more than a mass of lifeless flesh, so far as it is 
something fitted to be transfused and transfigured by the 
seriousness of intelligence and the dignity of spirituality, 
is there any doubt that it should be represented in colors 
neither very brilliant nor greatly varied ? May there not 
be a sense in which it is a literal fact that the blue veins 
of the aristocrat are far more suggestive of sentiment 
and soul behind them, not only than the bloated flush of 
the inebriate, but even than the ruddy hues of the peas- 
ant ? Compare even the "Beggar Boys "of Murillo, 
or his ordinary women, with the flaming flesh blistering 
on the limbs of Rubens' denuded females. Not alone the 
angular curves that often form the outlines of these latter, 



REPRESENTATION BY MEANS OF COLOR. 203 

but the coloring", too, causes all the difference in delicacy, 
refinement, and tenderness of sentiment between them 
and the former, that we should naturally expect to find 
between a friar's madonna and a farmer's mistress. 

So, too, in sculpture. Is it not universally recognized 
that statues of dark gray, blue, or black marble, granite, or 
bronze, as in the case of some of the Egyptian remains, 
(Fig. 147, page 221,) while fitted for subjects presented in 
proportions sufficiently large to secure great seriousness 
and dignity of effect, are much less appropriate than pure 
white marble for subjects of the same general character 
when presented in the proportions of life ? And is it not 
equally true that subjects of a lighter character and smaller 
size are far more appropriately represented in the warmer 
colored bronzes ? 

In architecture, outline has usually more to do with 
effects than has color. Yet here, too, few fail to recognize 
the influence of the latter. Who can be insensible to the 
congruity between the seriousness, gravity, and dignity of 
effect produced by dark shades of gray or even by white, 
as they loom before us in the outlines of the cathedral, as 
in Figs. 144, page 205, and 3, page 24, or of the large pub- 
lic edifice, as in Fig. 203, page 365, or in the capitol at 
Washington ? But who finds it agreeable to have the 
same conceptions associated with buildings designed for 
domestic purposes? Observe how cold, as we very appro- 
priately say, and therefore how devoid of that which is 
homelike and inviting, is the impression produced by the 
blue-gray or white of a mansion, like the one occupied by 
the Manhattan Club of New York, as contrasted with the 
appearance of a house constructed of material in which 
there is a more liberal admixture of the warm hues, as in 
stone or brick of a yellow, orange, red, or brown tint. This 



204 PA IN- TING, SCULPTURE, AND ARCHITECTURE. 

is true as applied even to very dark brown. Compare with 
the mansion just mentioned the twin houses of the Van- 
derbilts, on the same avenue. And what of the warm 
colors when used with contrasts ? Is there any one who 
is not conscious of the joyous, gay, and exhilarating sug- 
gestions imparted by the bright and varied tints that in- 
vite one to the pavilion of the park or the veranda of the 
seaside cottage? The same principle, of course, is exem- 
plified in interiors. Cold colors on the walls, an exclusive 
use of blue, or green, or even of white will always affect 
the sensitive like the clouds of a lowery day, while the 
warmer colors, used either wholly or in part, will corre- 
spondingly enliven them. No one can deny the impres- 
siveness of the gray of the stone arches that bend over the 
" dim religious light " of the church. But even the effect 
of this needs to be counteracted by warm colors in the 
chancel ; and it would be wholly out of place in a theatre. 
The difference between the interior of the Cathedral of 
New York and of the Metropolitan Opera House, though 
largely one of form, is still more largely one of color. 
Some years ago the directors of the Academy of Music in 
Philadelphia had the building refitted. The walls were 
covered with paper in which blue predominated. The 
effect was manifestly so disastrous to the complexion of 
the audience and the cheerfulness of their spirits, that, 
during the twenty-four hours subsequent to the first night 
of its reopening, the entire room was papered again, this 
time more appropriately. Fortunately, all are not sensi- 
tive to color, and few of those who are, are able to assign 
the right reason to the causes of their sensations. All the 
same, it behooves those who know that certain persons 
with certain temperaments are thus affected, to avoid, for 
their sakes, any violations of those conditions which, as a 
rule, conduce to cheerfulness and comfort. 




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2o6 PAINTING, SCUIPTURE, AND ARCHITECTURE. 

There is another effect of these cold, as contrasted with 
warm colors, which, perhaps, should be mentioned here, 
though, for another reason, it belongs to the subject to be 
treated in Chapter XVI. Owing to the degree of light 
that is necessary for the production of the warmer colors, 
it is only when objects are near at hand and therefore are 
in very strong light that we perceive these colors at all. 
At a distance, as exemplified in the blue of mountain 
ranges, everything is robed in the cold colors. For this 
reason, it is held that, in painting, the warm colors, with 
their compounds and admixtures, have the effect of caus- 
ing objects to seem to be at the front of a picture, and the 
cold colors of making them seem to be at the rear. We 
know that in linear perspective the farther off objects are 
the smaller they appear. In aerial perspective, the farther 
off they are the more dim, or blue, or purple, or gray they 
appear (see Fig. 168, page 297). A careful regard of this 
rule may sometimes enable the painter not only of land- 
scapes but also of figures to produce very striking effects. 
An illustration of this has been noticed in " The Scourging 
of Christ " by Titian, the greatest of the older colorists, in 
which a figure necessarily placed in front of our Lord, is 
painted with gray armor in order not to distract attention 
from the Christ himself, who, though in the rear of this, is 
thrust into prominence by the red coloring of his robe. 
A similar effect, in fact, is a result wherever this color is 
introduced. 

As applied to architecture, it is evident that, aside from 
the effects of form, which in certain cases may entirely 
counterbalance those of color, the colder the color, the 
more massive, as a rule, will appear not only the building 
itself but also the grounds about it ; the effect of the cold 
color being to make the house and its parts seem at a 



REPRESENTATION BY MEANS OF COLOR. 207 

greater distance from the observer, and, therefore, greater 
in size than it would be at the supposed distance. Hence, 
another reason for using cold colors in grand buildings. 
The same principle applies to the painting and the pa- 
pering of an interior. The warm colors cause an apart- 
ment to seem smaller and more cozy, and the cold colors 
exactly the opposite. The latter on the walls, therefore, 
not only for the reason suggested on page 204, but be- 
cause of these uncozy effects, are objectionable. But for 
ceilings, especially of public halls and churches, blue at 
least is rightly popular. Thus. used it suggests largeness 
and elevation, as in the sky which it seems to resem- 
ble ; and it also furnishes, as a rule, an agreeable contrast 
to the warmer colors appropriate for the walls. 

Now let us consider the mixed as distinguished from the 
pure colors. Going back, for a moment, to mixed tones, 
the first of them that was mentioned was the aspirate. 
This, as was said, is a whisper, and its characteristic is an 
absence of any tone whatever. Of course, that which, in 
the realm of color, corresponds to an absence of tone 
must be, according to its degree of intensity, black or 
white, or else some gray quality formed by mixing the 
two. The whisper, in its forcible form, the analogue of 
which, in the realm of sight, would be black, indicates 
apprehension, as in fright ; and in its weaker form, the 
analogue of which, in the realm of sight, would be white, 
indicates interest, as in the secrecy of a love-scene. In 
both forms the whisper adds feeling to the tone, which, as 
a rule, is usually uttered, if not simultaneously with it, at 
least before or after it. This tone, of course, considered 
irrespective of the whisper that is joined with it, must re- 
semble either the normal or the orotund. If it resemble 
the normal, the forcible whisper causes it to have that pas- 



208 PAINTING, SCULPTURE, AND ARCHITECTURE. 

sive effect of apprehension characterizing the expressions 
of awe and horror represented in the mixed quality which 
is termed pectoral. If the tone resemble the orotund, the 
forcible whisper causes it to have that active effect 
of apprehension characterizing the expression of hostility 
represented in the mixed quality which is termed 
gutteral. 

In the realm of sight, nothing could be perceived if 
everything were absolutely black. Black, therefore, as 
well as white, must always be blended with other shades. 
When blended thus, the effect of being side by side is 
much the same as of actual mixture. At a slight dis- 
tance, we cannot tell whether the appearance is owing to 
the latter or merely to the fact that two shades happen to 
be near together. Now bearing this in mind we may say 
that the effect of black, when blended with the cold colors, 
corresponds to that of pectoral quality, and, when blended 
with the warm colors, corresponds to that of guttural 
quality. 

Notice, first, the combinations of black with the cold 
colors. In such cases the black, of course, must be very 
prominent, and, merely to render the objects depicted 
clearly perceptible, it must be offset in some places by 
cold colors of comparatively light tints. But where light 
tints are blended with absolute black, there must be some 
violent contrasts. Violent contrasts of themselves, as 
shown on page 194, represent excitation. Excitation, 
however, in connection with blackness, — to go back to 
what was said, on page 193, of the effects of light from 
which we have developed those of pigments — is excita- 
tion in connection with more or less indistinctness caus- 
ing perplexity and involving apprehension. At the same 
time, as this apprehensive excitation is connected with 



REPRESENTATION BY MEANS OF COLOR. 2(X) 

the cold colors, it is passive, or, as one might say, chilling 
and benumbing, rather than active, or, as one might say, 
heating and inflaming. For this reason its effects seem 
appropriately compared to those of awe and horror repre- 
sented by the pectoral quality. Of course, color alone, 
without other means of expression, can only approximate 
a representation of these ; but let the outlines justify it, 
and what hues, mixed with those of the countenance, can 
make it so ghastly as dark blue and green ; or can make 
the clouds of heaven so unheavenly as very dark blue ; or 
the sod of the earth so unearthly as dark blue-green ; or 
anything so deathlike and appalling as these colors used 
with excessive contrasts of light and shade ? Is it any 
wonder that it is with these combinations that Gustave 
Dore produces most of the harrowing effects in his series 
of pictures illustrating Dante's " Inferno" ? 

Now let us add black to yellow, orange, or red, either 
mixing the two or placing them side by side, and notice 
the effect. As said before, the very dark shades can- 
not, in painting, be used exclusively. If they be, the 
outlines cannot be made clearly perceptible. But to use 
black in connection with the lighter tints, introduces that 
variety which, as said on page 194, always increases the 
excitation of the effect. Warmth, in connection with 
black, or, as explained in the last paragraph, with apprehen- 
sive excitation, — emotive heat causing active resistance 
to that which is dreaded, — does not this describe, as nearly 
as anything can, a condition attendant upon hostility such 
as is represented to the ear by the guttural tone. In the 
case of the warm colors, too, still more than in that of 
the cold, nature seems to have enforced the meanings of 
the combinations so that we shall not mistake them. 
Yellow and black, orange and black, red and black, or, 



210 PAINTING, SCULPTURE, AND ARCHITECTURE. 

in place of black, very dark gray, green, blue, or purple, 
which are allied to black, — is there a particularly vene- 
mous insect or beast, or appearance of any kind, from 
a bee, or snake, or tiger, to the fire and smoke of a con- 
flagration, or the lightning and cloud of a storm, in which 
we do not detect some presence of these combinations? 
No wonder, then, that so often in former times, at least, 
soldiers wore them on their breasts when girded for the 
contests of the battle-field ! 

The whisper, in its weaker form, was said to represent 
not apprehension, but a more or less agreeable degree of 
interest. Of course, the weaker form of a negation of 
color, at its extreme, must be represented by white. As 
applied to tones, there is no separate term of designation 
for this whisper when added to normal or orotund quality. 
Elocutionists merely speak of an aspirated normal or oro- 
tund, saying that, when aspirated, feeling is added to 
the effect of each. Let us recall now combinations of 
white with blue, green, or purple. Is there any diffi- 
culty in recognizing how closely the result corresponds 
to that which is produced by an aspirated normal tone ? 
We have all seen such combinations in summer costumes, 
as well as in tents and awnings over windows or verandas. 
In such cases, is there not a more exhilarating effect pro- 
duced by them than could be produced by white alone ? 
or by one of these colors alone? Yet, at the same time, 
is not the effect far cooler, and, in this sense, less exhilara- 
ting, than is produced by combinations of white with red, 
orange, or yellow? 

In these latter we have, as has been said, that which 
corresponds to the effect of the aspirated orotund, — the 
tone used in earnest advocacy or description of some- 
thing which is felt to be in itself of profound interest. 



representation by means of color. 211 

Think of the combinations of white with these warmer 
colors. Could any language better than that just used 
designate their peculiar influence? What than they are 
more exhilarating or entrancing in the decorations of 
interiors, or in banners and pageants? 

Even were it possible, which it is not, to illustrate fully 
in book-form these various effects of color, there would 
be no great necessity for doing so. By following up the 
suggestions that have been made, those interested in the 
subject will have no difficulty in applying the principles 
unfolded, sufficiently, at least, to become convinced of 
their essential accuracy. Nor is it necessary in this place 
to carry the discussion further, and try to distinguish be- 
tween the representative possibilities of each of the cold 
colors — green, blue, and purple, or of the warm colors — 
red, orange, and yellow. Viewed in their relations to 
mental effects, the differences between the colors of each 
group, as between the shades of each color, are mainly of 
degree, not of kind, and depend largely upon the natural 
color of the objects represented or by which these are 
surrounded. In a general way, one might say that a dark 
purple-like blue would have the coldest effect, and a 
bright orange-like red the warmest. But, as applied to 
the human countenance, certain shades of green might 
seem the most ghastly, and, as applied to clouds, certain 
shades of purple. The only unvarying fact is that indi- 
cated by the general division into cold and warm colors. 
Accordingly attention has been directed here to this, and 
to this alone. 

With the representative possibilities of color, our ex- 
amination of the various elements of visible expression, 
as considered separately, has been carried as far as is 
necessary for the purposes of the present volume. The 



212 PAIN TING, SC ULP PURE, A ND A R CHI TECT URE . 

suggestions of the subject, however, are almost as infinite 
as nature itself, and are, by no means, limited to such as 
are derived from the use of forms in the higher arts. 
This fact has been brought forcibly to the mind of the 
author since preparing the present treatise by a large 
illustrated pamphlet, entitled " Principles and Methods 
in Art Education," containing an abstract of lectures de- 
livered by Principal John Ward Stimson, of the New 
York Institute for Artist-Artisans. With a remarkable 
combination of analytic ability and artistic knowledge, 
the lecturer has endeavored to connect every possible 
form of line, though used merely in decorative art, with 
an expression of a mental conception. Whatever may 
be thought of some of the non-essential details of his 
presentation, which are elaborated with a marvellous 
amount of particularity and variety, there can be no 
question of the very great service which he has rendered 
to both the philosophy and practice of aesthetics. By 
applying, too, as he does, an absolutely correct concep- 
tion of the connection between beauty and significance, 
where the presence of the latter is the most difficult to 
detect, i. <?., among the elements of mere conventional 
shapes, he has very greatly strengthened an argument 
for the same conception when applied to the representa- 
tions of man and of nature in figures and landscapes in 
which the necessity of significance is far more generally 
conceded. 



CHAPTER XII. 

THE DEVELOPMENT OF REPRESENTATION IN PAINTING 
AND SCULPTURE. 

Connection between what is to Follow and what has Preceded — How Poetry 
and Music are Developed from Language and Intonation — Analogous 
Methods as Exemplified in Painting, Sculpture, and Architecture — 
Prehistoric Pictorial Art — Representing External Appearances not 
only, but Mind — Earliest Art of a Historic Period — Picture Writing — 
Hieroglyphic Writing — Description of — Art as Distinguished from 
Writing in Egypt — In Greece — Early Representation of Ideas and 
Later of Natural Appearances only — Symbolism of Early Christian Art 
and Naturalism of Later Art — Ideas and Nature as Represented at the 
Renaissance and at Present — Possibility of Two Opposing Tendencies 
— Justification for each of them — Yet need not Exclude each other — 
So far as Exclusive each is Detrimental — Practical Application of these 
Facts to Present Conditions — The Yellow Book — American Illustrated 
Magazines — Importance of the Subject. 

T N accordance with the plan indicated on page 14, we 
have now studied in detail each of the factors of 
appearance of which the forms of painting, sculpture, and 
architecture are composed, and tried to ascertain the 
phase of mental and natural phenomena which it can be 
said to represent. Of course, it follows that if these fac- 
tors, separately considered, are representative, they must 
be the same when combined with others in a completed 
art-form. In the remainder of this volume we have to 
observe in what regards this is true, looking at the sub- 
ject, first, as applied to painting and sculpture, and, after 
that, as applied to architecture. 

213 



214 PAINTING, SCULPTURE, AND ARCHITECTURE. 

In the volume of this series entitled " Poetry as a Rep- 
resentative Art," it was shown that the art of poetry 
begins when a man takes the instinctive or imitative 
utterances which he finds already developed, according 
to the methods of nature, into the forms of words and 
phrases, and develops further, according to the methods 
of art, the elements of which their forms are constructed. 
As a result, the thought and emotion which these ele- 
ments naturally represent by way of association or of 
comparison, continue to be represented in the art-products 
developed from them, but in a far more elaborate and 
aesthetically effective way. So, too, it was shown in the 
essay entitled " Music as a Representative Art," printed 
in the same volume as " Rhythm and Harmony in Poetry 
and Music," that the art of music begins when a man 
takes, as a motive, a series of sounds already developed 
according to the methods of nature into forms of utterance 
coming from birds, beasts, or human lips, whether in speech 
or in a previously existing melody, and develops further, 
according to the methods of art, the elements of which 
these forms are constructed. As a result, the phases of 
thought or emotion represented in the orignal utter- 
ances by way of association or of comparison, continue to 
be represented in the art-products developed from them, 
but in a far more elaborate and aesthetically effective 
way. 

Precisely similar are the conditions underlying results 
in the arts of sight. These, too, are more elaborate and 
aesthetically effective developments of methods natural to 
men when expressing their internal thoughts and emo- 
tions through using, as they must always do, the external 
appearances surrounding them. Of the developments 
themselves there are two different phases — one appearing 



REPRESENTA TION IN SCULPTURE AND PAINTING. 2 I 5 



in painting and sculpture, and the other in architecture. 
The differences between these phases and the reasons for 
them, are explained on pages 28 to 32 and need not be 
repeated here. The first phase, common to painting and 
sculpture, represents, as indicated on page 30 of this vol- 
ume, and more fully elaborated in Chapter XlX.of " Art in 
Theory," a condition of consciousness, immediately and 
constantly under the influence of external appearances; 
and for this reason necessarily manifesting itself through 
more or less direct imitation of these. In this respect 
these arts are correlated to poetry. Indeed, in the sphere 
of sight they are scarcely more imitative, though this fact 




FIG. 145.— FIGURE CARVED IN THE STONE AGE. 
See page 216. 

is sometimes overlooked, than this latter art is in that of 
sound. ( A figure of a man untrue to the conditions of 
nature would be no more out of place in painting or 
sculpture than the words of a man untrue to the same 
would be in poetry. 

What has been said thus far in this chapter would 
seem to make it desirable to show here, could it be done, 
that we owe both painting and sculpture, primarily, to 
the efforts of men to represent in a distinct way their own 
thought or emotion as well as the appearances sur- 
rounding them. But it must be confessed that, upon first 
examination, such does not seem to be the case. Gabriel 
and Adrien De Mortillet, as illustrated in Plate XXVII.of 



2 1 6 PAIN TING, SCULP TUBE, A ND ABCHITECTUBE, 

their elaborate work, the " Musee Prehistorique," have 
shown that, back in the prehistoric time of the Madeleine 
period of the early stone age, men had begun to carve on 
bone images of the mammoth, cave-bear, reindeer, ibex, 
saiga, fish, horse, and human being (see Fig. 145, page 
215). Such carvings are the earliest remains of art of 
which we know ; and, although some of them in a few 
museums show an animal and a human being brought 
together in a way suggesting a desire to represent ideas 
through indicating a connection between the two, the 
writer, for one, has seen no specimen rendering it certain 
that this was done for any other reason than because the 
material on which to carve was limited in size. 

We must draw the inference, therefore, that, in very 
early ages, a desire to imitate the sights of nature for 
their own sakes irrespective of definite ideas to be repre- 
sented through the use of them, must have existed. But 
although drawing this inference, notice, further, that any 
desire to imitate sights must have come later than one 
prompting men to imitate sounds ; and this for the same 
general reason that children of our own day learn to talk 
before they learn to use a pencil and draw. We may be 
sure that, at the time when these figures were produced, 
the primitive man was in the habit of communicating 
ideas through vocal utterances, or primitive words. If so, 
he had definite ideas, and he had them, too, with reference 
to the visible form which he copied ; and it is incon- 
ceivable that he should have copied this for any other 
reason than to represent these ideas, though not, neces- 
sarily, to communicate them. Notice the difference be- 
tween these two aims as explained in Chapter V. of " Art 
in Theory." Or look at the subject in another light. 
The fact that these figures were copied at all, furnishes 



REPRESENTA TION IN PAINTING AND SCULPTURE. 2 I / 

the best possible proof that their producers were men and 
not apes, because animals never copy in this way. In 
other words, regarding forms as merely results of imita- 
tion, we have to acknowledge that painting and sculpture 
are results of effects produced by external appearances 
upon a mind ; and, as any effect upon a mind has to do 
with ideas, there is a sense in which a representation of 
ideas is involved in any attempt at such imitation as we 
find in these specimens. See " Art in Theory," Chapter 
VI., entitled " Representation of Natural Appearances as 
Involving that of the Mind." 

Moreover, besides this, although the evidences of at- 
tempts to connect together different figures or certain 
parts of the same figure so as to direct attention, in a 
definitely picturesque way, to the conceptions intended 
to be indicated, are not clearly discoverable in prehistoric 
periods, they are discoverable very early in historic 
ones. The practical uses made of pictures in the illus- 
trated publications of our own day except, perhaps, as 
applied to caricature, are by no means modern. Immedi- 
ately after the times in which national records were kept 
by means of knots made in cords of the same or of differ- 
ent colors, as was the case with the Peruvians and some 
of the tribes of Asia and Africa, rude figures began to 
be scratched, or stained, or carved, according to require- 
ments of the material, either on green leaves, whence our 
word leaf as applied to the page of a book ; or on bark, 
often of the beech, whence our word book ; or on wood, 
often of the papyrus, a reed growing in the marshes of 
the Nile, whence our word paper ; or on stone or metal, — 
all of which figures in their forms were what is termed 
ideographic, because representing ideas through a 
graphic or pictorial method. 



2l8 PAINTING, SCULPTURE, AND ARCHITECTURE. 

" A piece of cotton cloth is before us," says Collier in 
his " History of English Literature," " brilliant with crim- 
son and yellow and pale blue, and oblong like a modern 
page. It is a picture-writing of old Mexico, relating the 
reign and conquests of King Acamapich. Down the left 
border runs a broad strip of blue divided into thirteen 
parts by lines resembling the rounds of a ladder. This 
represents a reign of thirteen years. In each compart- 
ment a symbol expresses the story of the year. A flower 
denoting calamity is found in two of them. But the 
chief story is told by the colored forms of the centre, 
where we have the sovereign painted twice, as a stern- 
looking head, capped with a serpent-crest, with a dwarfish, 
white-robed body, and, separate from the shoulder, a 
hand grasping a couple of arrows. Before this grim war- 
rior, at the top of the scroll, lie a shield and a bundle of 
spears. Face and feet are painted* a dull yellow. Before 
his second effigy we have four smaller heads, with closed 
eyes and an ominous, bloody mark upon lip and chin, de- 
noting the capture and beheading of four hostile chiefs. 
The four sacked and plundered cities are depicted by 
roofs falling from ruined walls ; and beside each stands a 
symbol representing some botanical or geographical fea- 
ture by which its site is characterized. Pictures of differ- 
ent species of trees distinguish two of the cities ; the 
third stands evidently by a lake, for a pan of water is 
drawn close to it, united by a line to mark close connec- 
tion." 

The connecting link between this form of representing 
ideas and phonetic writing, whether verbal like the Chi- 
nese, syllabic like some of central Asia, or alphabetic 
like our own, is found in hieroglyphics. These were 
used in Egypt, and innumerable specimens of them are 



REPRESEN TA TION IN PAIN TING A ND SCULP TURE. 2 1 9 

still visible on the existing obelisks and tombs of that 
country. Notice the characters composing the inscrip- 
tions in Fig. 146, page 219. In these characters the forms 
of natural appearances abound ; and yet some strictly 
conventional meaning seems to be assigned to each of 
them. They express abstractions and qualities. To quote 
again from the work just mentioned : " In the hieroglyphic 
writing of the Egyptians the queen bee represents loyalty ; 







FIQ. 146— EGYPTIAN PICTURE FROM THE BOOK OF THE DEAD. 
See pages 219, 221, 222. 



the bull, strength ; an ostrich feather, from the even- 
ness of its filaments, truth or justice. The figures are 
often, especially in later writings, reduced to their princi- 
pal parts, or even to lines, the latter being the first step 
toward the formation of an alphabet. For instance, a 
combat is represented by two arms, one bearing a shield, 
the other a pike ; Upper and Lower Egypt are denoted 
by single stems topped with a blossom or a plume, repre- 



220 PAINTING, SCULPTURE, AND ARCHITECTURE. 

senting respectively the lotus and the papyrus. The 
coloring of the hieroglyphics is not in imitation of nature, 
as is the case with the earlier picture-writing, but follows 
a conventional system seldom departed from. The upper 
part of a canopy in blue stood for the heavens, a thick 
waving line of the same or a greenish hue represented 
the sea. The sun is red with a yellow rim. Man's flesh 
is red ; woman's yellow ; wooden instruments 

are pale orange or buff ; bronze utensils green. The effect 
of a hieroglyphic writing, as it strikes the eye, is very 
brilliant, red, yellow, and blue being the prevailing hues." 
This hieroglyphic writing of Egypt assumed two forms : 
It was painted on papyrus and also both painted and en- 
graved on stone. " The wall," says Owen Jones in his 
" Handbook to the Egyptian Court of the (London) Crys- 
tal Palace," " was first chiselled as smooth as possible. 
. . Lines were then ruled perpendicularly and hori- 
zontally with red color, forming squares all over the wall 
corresponding with the proportions of the figures to be 
drawn upon it. The subjects of the paintings and of the 
hieroglyphics were then drawn on the wall with a red 
line, most probably by the priest or chief scribe or by 
some inferior artist, from a document divided into similar 
squares. Then came the chief artist who went over every 
figure and hieroglyphic with a black line and a firm and 
steady hand, giving expression to every curve, deviating 
here and confirming there the former red line. The line 
thus traced was then followed by the sculptor. In this 
stage there are instances of a head or a foot having been 
completely sculptured, while the rest of the figure remains 
in outline. The next process was to paint the figure in 
the prescribed colors ; and in some cases the painted line 
deviates from the sculptured line, showing that the 



REPRESENTA TION IJST PAINTIXG AXD SCULPTURE. 22 I 



painter was the more important workman, and that even 
in this process no possible improvement was omitted. 
There are other instances where a considerable deviation 
from the position ______ _ 

of a leg or arm has 
been made. After 
the sculpture was 
finished and paint- 
ed, the part was 
recarved and the 
defective portion 
filled in with plas- 
ter, which, having 
since fallen off, 
furnishes us with 
this curious evi- 
dence of their 
practice." 

It must not be 
supposed, how- 
ever, that, even in 
Egypt, hiero- 
glyphic writing 
and art — the one 
intended to com- 
municate directly 
and the other to 
represent indi- 
rectly — were not 
clearly separated. 
In Fig. 146, page 219, the distinction between the 
two is almost as apparent as in modern times. At 
a very early period in Egyptian history, too, we find 




FIG. 147 



.—ANCIENT EGYPTIAN HEAD 

British Museum. 
See pages 203, 222. 



222 PAINTING, SCULPTURE, AND ARCHITECTURE. 

statues of great excellence, in the production of which 
artists were evidently actuated by a desire to represent 
nature rather than thought. The face in Fig, 147, 
page 221, according to the dynasties inscribed upon it, 
dates back to between 1600 and 1400 B.C. Doing so, 
it antedates by fully three hundred years the conven- 
tional representation in Fig. 5, page 27, for the Piankhi 
there depicted did not live till toward the end of the 
twenty-second dynasty, somewhere between 1 100 and 975 
B.C. Moreover, the " Book of the Dead," from which 
Fig. 146, page 219, is taken, is said to have been begun to 
be written about 700 B.C., though, as the book had existed 
in traditional form for centuries, the date of the origin of 
this illustration is uncertain. Both these latter figures, 
however, show how completely the desire to represent 
nature, as indicated in Fig. 147, page 221, became, after a 
time, subordinated to that of representing ideas. Indeed, 
in view of the fact that so many of these pictures were 
symbolical of religious conceptions, some have supposed 
that the priests must have begun to impose rules regulat- 
ing the appearances of the figures used. This extreme of 
conventionalism, however, after a time produced its 
natural result, and drove art to the opposite extreme. In 
Greece, as in every country using alphabetic characters, it 
was always recognized that writing was one thing and 
art another ; and that, w hile the first might accomplish its 
highest purpose without an accurate representation of ex- 
ternal forms, the second could not. But even in the 
earliest Greek art, the desire to symbolize ideas as well as 
to copy nature was still prominent. There is little essen- 
tial difference in method, for instance, between Fig. 5, 
page 27, illustrating an Egyptian design, and Fig. 6, page 
27, illustrating an early Greek design, dating to between 



REPRESENTA TION IN PAINTING AND SCULP TURE. 223 

558 and 700 B.C. Through all the periods of Greek art, 
too, there was more or less of the same style of treatment. 
Those whose attention has never been directed to the 
fact will be surprised to notice the vast preponderance of 
groups, as contrasted with single figures, in the works of 
Phidias (490 to 430 B.C.), who represents the best period 
of Greek art, as, e. g., in the pediment and frieze of the 
Parthenon, a part of the latter of which may be seen in 
Fig. 148, page 223. Notice also the Laocoon, Fig. 21, 
page 49, which was produced probably two hundred years 
later by the artists of the Rhodian school. Nor, except 
in comparatively late periods, did the Greeks produce 




FIG. 148.— FIGURES ON THE FRIEZE ON THE PARTHENON. 
See pages 223, 225. 281, 282, 396. 



statues with exclusive reference to form, or with no par- 
ticular regard for significance — statues, for instance, like 
the " Venus Leaving the Bath " (Fig. 149, page 224), the 
sculptor of which is unknown, or even like the Apollo 
Sauroctonos (Fig. 20, page 48) or Venus de' Medici (Fig. 
38, page //), which are both supposed to be originals, or 
imitations from originals, by Praxiteles, who was at his 
prime about 360 B.C. Of large numbers of other stat- 
ues, too, which, at first, might seem to belong to 
this latter class, it must not be forgotten that, as origi- 
nally designed and placed, they also were members of 



224 Painting, sculpture, and architecture. 



groups, which fact imparted to them a significance not 
now apparent. For instance, the Apollo Belvedere (Fig. 
28, page 62) or the statue from which it and a very small 
ancient bronze, called from its owner the Stroganoff 
Apollo, are both considered to have been wholly or partly 
imitated, is now, by some, supposed, as suggested by a 

German scholar, Ludwig 
Preller, to have stood at 
the apex of the pediment 
of a temple at Delphi with 
the statue called " Diana 
alaBiche" (page 75," The 
Genesis of Art-Form "), at 
one side, and that called 
" Athena of the Capitol " 
(Fig- 37, P a ge 7 6 )> at the 
other side. This would be 
in accordance with the 
answer said to have been 
given when the Gauls ap- 
proached Delphi, to the 
question of the people 
whether the treasures of 
the temple should be re- 
moved. The answer was : 
"I myself [meaning 
Apollo] and the White 
Maidens [meaning Athena 
and Diana] will take care of that." Besides this, all of the 
Greek statues, even when not in groups, were more or less 
literal reproductions of others that had been in groups, 
or with which in some way, at least, the Greeks had come to 
associate conventional meanings. The complete transition 




ri3. 149.— VENUS LEAVING THE BATH : 
Capitol at Rome. 

28l, 282. 



See pages 76, 223, 225, 



REPRESENTA TION IN PAINTING AND SCULP PURE. 225 

from conveying this conventional meaning to a condition 
in which they conveyed no meaning at all, took place 
only after the art had begun, in a very marked way, to de- 
cline. In the earlier reliefs and statues, for instance, both 
Bacchus and Venus were clothed, and characterized by 
the dignity becoming a god. A convincing proof of this 
is that almost all authorities — as a result, of course, of 
their study of these earlier representations — agree that 
the fourth form from the right, in Fig. 148, page 223, 
which is a copy of some of the figures of the gods carved 
on the frieze of the Parthenon at Athens, represents 
Bacchus, and that the third form from the right repre- 
sents Venus. Nor was this dignity wholly dropped when, 
as in the so-called Venus of Milo, the desire to portray 
the human form first began to assert itself so strongly as 
to cause the artist to drop the clothing. But, later on, 
Bacchus was represented as in a state of intoxication, and 
Venus as nothing but a well-shaped woman (Fig. 38, page 
yy, and Fig. 149, page 224), and sometimes even as a wan- 
ton. But, at this period, when it had been forgotten that 
there was any need of significance, in representing the 
gods, or of any, at least, worth considering, art was not at 
its best. As Wyatt says, in his " Fine Art " : " The 
culminating point of excellence has always been found in 
the art at that stage of its development in which the sculp- 
tor has acquired his highest powers of direct imitation 
consistent with his retention of command over and power 
of adhering strictly to broad generalizations. Need I 
point out to you that the perfection of such a stage was 
found in the age of Pericles in Greece, and remains for 
ever written upon the surface of every fragment of the 
sculptor's art which has come down to us from that illus- 
trious period." 



226 PAINTING, SCUIPTURE, AND ARCHITECTURE. 

In the latest Greek and Roman art, comparatively little 
attention was paid to anything except the imitation of 
form. But after the Christian era, there came a change. 
Religious ideas took such possession of men that to sym- 
bolize these became their chief aim ; and for fully six 
centuries nothing was produced indicative of a careful 
study of the appearances of nature. About the end of the 
twelfth century, however, there came another change. In 
the Gothic cathedrals of northern Europe (see Fig. 150, p. 
227, representing an ornamental arcade, from the chapel 
of the palace at Holyrood, Scotland, dating to the latter 
part of the thirteenth century), the forms carved in stone, 
which, up to that time, had been conventional (see page 
388, also 390), began to give place to the literal repro- 
duction of leaves, flowers, and human faces ; and in 
Italy and Holland the forms in paintings gradually came 
to be more and more like those of the external world. In 
the great works produced by Raphael (see Fig. 39, page 
79) and by the painters of his period about equal atten- 
tion seems to have been given to the representation of 
mental conceptions and of natural appearances, and from 
that time to the present, this may be said to have been 
characteristic of all the painting and sculpture of the 
Europeans and their descendants in our own country. It 
may be said, too, that the rank assigned to individual 
painters has usually been determined by the degrees of 
their success in meeting the demands of both phases of 
representation. The figures of Benjamin West and Julius 
Schnorr, for instance, are arranged more effectively than 
many a most spectacularly significant climax in a drama : 
those of Balthasar Denner and Florent Willems manifest 
the most scrupulous regard for the requirements of line 
and color. Yet because exclusive attention to either sig- 



PEPRESEN TA TION IN PA IN TING A ND SCULPTURE. 227 

nificance or form led all of them to neglect one of the 
two, they never can rank with artists of which this was 
not true — Raphael, Titian, and Rubens. 

It is evident, however, that the possibility of having 
the attention turned in one or the other of these two 




FIG. 150.— ORNAMENTAL ARCADE FROM THE CHAPEL OF PALACE AT HOLYROOD, SCOTLAND. 

See page 226. 

directions involves the possibility of two different practi- 
cal methods in art not only, but of two different theories 
concerning it. According to one theory the art of a pro- 
duct is to be judged by the degree in which the artist 
excels in expression, i. c, in arranging appearances so as 



228 PAINTING, SCULPTURE, AND ARCHITECTURE. 

to suggest definite thoughts or to awaken definite emo- 
tions. According to the other theory, it is to be judged 
by the degree in which he excels in imitation, i. e., in 
producing an exact resemblance to the outlines and colors 
of nature. As shown in " Art and Theory," there is a way 
of reconciling both theories ; but human minds, as a rule, 
have so narrow an outlook that they can be depended 
upon to snatch a half-truth, if possible, and use it as a 
weapon against the whole truth. Whatever may have 
been the case in the past, an artist at the present time 
cannot compose upon the theory that significance is 
essential to the highest excellence in art without being 
stigmatized by certain critics as " literary " ; nor can he 
compose upon the theory that imitative skill is essential to 
the highest excellence without being stigmatized by cer- 
tain other critics as being a a mere technicist." 

Of course, in some cases the use of these designations 
is appropriate ; and, in all cases, it is easy to trace their 
genesis, and find some justification for them. To inveigh 
against the literary tendency in this art is a perfectly 
natural reaction against an attempt on the part of certain 
English and German artists of the early part of the 
present century, like West and Overbeck, not only to 
revive religious symbolic and allegoric painting, but to do 
this, apparently, upon the supposition that a subject 
capable of being made impressive by an elaborate ex- 
planation, or story indicating its intention, can compensate 
for an indifferent style, an idea subsequently developed 
by the English Pre-Raphaelites and in the genre pictures 
of the followers of Von Schadow at Dusseldorf. On 
the other hand, to inveigh against exclusive attention 
to technique is an equally natural reaction against the 
exceedingly tame and unimaginative effects produced by 



REPRESENTA TION IN PAINTING AND SCULPTURE. 22C, 

mere imitation, such as we find in many cf the French 
pictures. No amount of care expended upon the por- 
trayal of tint or texture in foliage, clothing, or flesh can 




FIG. 151.— THE GIRLHOOD OF THE VIRGIN MARY. ROSSETTI. 
See pages 230, 252, 295. 



satisfy the artistic ideals of certain minds. They refuse 
to admit that great art can ever result from any possible 
elaboration of small subjects. 



230 PAINTING, SCULPTURE, AND ARCHITECTURE. 

It is important to notice, however, that, although what 
is said against either of these tendencies may be true, so 
far as it excludes the other, there is nothing to indicate 
any necessity of its excluding this. Indeed, an endeavor 
to analyze the interest awakened by almost any picture 
will reveal that it is necessarily related somewhat both to 
significance and to form. For instance, the title of " The 
Girlhood of the Virgin Mary," by Rossetti (Fig. 151, page 
229), proves that it is intended to interest us in the subject 
which it is designed to represent, and, even, as indicated 
by the halo around the dove and the wings on the child, 
to symbolize. Nevertheless, that which gives the picture 
its main interest in the history of art, is its literal repro- 
duction, in the pre-Raphaelite manner, of the special 
details of appearance. Here, therefore, is a picture de- 
signed to be significant, which owes its main interest to 
its form. Again, who has been more lauded for drawing 
his inspiration directly from the appearances of nature 
than J. F. Millet? Yet in his picture of "A Storm" 
(Fig. 152, page 231) the chief interest is owing not to any- 
thing that the artist did see or could see in appearances 
about him ; but to the representation of significance sug- 
gested to him as possible in connection with appearances. 

These pictures have been chosen for illustration be- 
cause, in both of them, may be noticed a tendency which 
needs to be developed only slightly in order to reveal 
itself to be clearly detrimental. Owing to his concep- 
tions of the requirements of form, Rossetti has chosen to 
ignore much that has been supposed to have been learned 
since the Pre-Raphaelite period ; and owing to his concep- 
tions of the requirements of significance, Millet has chosen 
to ignore much that has been supposed to have been learned 
since the period of the early landscape artists. As a result. 



232 PAINTING, SCULPTURE, ANE> ARCHITECTURE. 

for a different reason, primarily, both border upon unnatu- 
ralism, the one because of attention to the particularities 
of form, and consequent emphasis of details, which 
causes a suggestion of stiffness of style ; and the other 
because of attention to the general effects of significance, 
and consequent slighting of details, which causes a sug- 
gestion of looseness of style ; and both of them, but 
apparently for different reasons, have produced results 
suggesting those characterizing the art of China and 
Japan. Under these apparently different reasons, how- 
ever, there is a single reason. This is the failure of both 
painters to give equal attention to the claims of signifi- 
cance and of form. Rossetti tries to make his picture 
significant through paying attention, primarily, to the 
particularities of forms, but these are grouped according 
to a tendency so lacking in representative suggestiveness 
as almost to prevent them from being significant. Millet 
tries to make his picture a transcript of a natural storm 
through paying attention, primarily, to the general indi- 
cations of significance ; but his forms, considered aside 
from their groupings, show a tendency so lacking in repre- 
sentative imitation as almost to prevent their recalling 
actual appearances. It is evident, too, that if the tendency 
in either picture were carried a little farther, it might be- 
come in every sense unrepresentative, conveying a satis- 
factory impression neither to the mind nor to the senses. 
Of course, almost every reader of this book will feel 
inclined to say that such a result is not supposable in the 
art of our own time and country. But why is it not ? 
Notice Fig. 153, page 233. No one can deny its essential 
cleverness and ingenuity. Nor is it sufficiently unrepre- 
sentative to be refused classification among specimens of 
representative art. But when one hears art-critics term- 



3 




^wwwswrmsw«mnnr2rcrenswrc$7nr?r?§ 



FIG. 153.— COVER OF THE CATALOGUE OF THE AMERICAN WATER-COLOR 

SOCIETY, 1895. 

See pages 232, 234. 



233 



234 PAINTING, SCULPTURE, AND ARCHITECTURE. 

ing it, by way of distinction, " artistic " and " very artistic," 
how can he refrain from feeling that, the next time these 
terms are used, they may be applied to what is distinc- 
tively inartistic ? As regards significance, the splashing 
water and peacock represent water-color only by a sort of 
symbolic pun ; and, as regards form, the foliage, bird, and 
woman, with the wetting that she is giving her skirt, all 
show a very decided bias toward the unnatural side of the 
conventional. "But what harm can this do?" maybe 
asked. No harm, perhaps, unless the same tendency be 
carried farther. But will it not be ? As a proof that, 
unless checked, it certainly will, let any one glance at the 
illustrations in the new English magazine, " The Yellow 
Book " ; and then in humiliation read over the names of 
hitherto reputable authors who have been beguiled into 
allowing their writings to be printed between the covers 
of a periodical started for the purpose of making such 
illustrations popular. We are told that these are speci- 
mens of a new style of art. In reality, they are specimens 
of a style of no art whatever, if by the term we mean that 
which is art in the highest sense ; and this for the very 
evident reason, which those who have followed the lines 
of thought in this so-called unpractical series of essays, 
will at once recognize, namely, that it is not their aim to 
represent either mental conceptions or natural appearances. 
The fad which they exemplify furnishes merely one more 
of many inane manifestations of Anglo-Saxon affectation, 
the same trait, exhibiting the same inability to perceive 
the essentially ethic as well as aesthetic connection between 
a thing to be expressed and a representative method of 
expressing it which, for years, has made two whole nations 
speak inarticulately and spell irregularly, and, to-day, is 
making so many wear monocles, carry canes dirt-end up- 




FIG. 154— EASTER ADVERTISEMENT OF THE GORHAM MANUFACTURING COMPANY. 

235 See page 236. 



236 PAINTING, SCULPTURE, AND ARCHITECTURE. 

ward, and shake hands as if, forsooth, they could not get 
over habits acquired in clasping the fingers of court ladies 
holding on their arms heavy trains at the queen's recep- 
tions. There is no more art in what the draftsmen of 
this " Yellow Book" suppose to indicate it than there is 
heart in what so many of their patrons now suppose to 
indicate a hearty welcome. 

Failing to obtain an illustration of one of the drawings 
of Aubrey Beardsley, the chief offender in the " Yellow 
Book," the author has been enabled, through the cour- 
tesy of the well known Gorham Silver Manufacturing 
Company to use their Easter advertisement for 1895 (see 
Fig. 154, page 235). Though far less objectionable than 
some of Beardsley's drawings, it evidently belongs to the 
same school, and suggests, as they do, the Chinese and 
Japanese method from which — though without the repre- 
sentation of significance which usually in part redeems 
this method — it is imitated. As a symbol of artisanship, 
Fig. 154 can be argued to be as excusable as it certainly is 
striking. But notice how, for the reasons just given, it is 
entirely outside of any possibility of being rightly classed 
with the higher representative arts. Yet possibly three 
fourths of those who see it do not recognize this fact. 
Why should they ? — when the drift of artistic taste in our 
country is so decidedly drawing them in a direction to 
prevent them from doing so. It is true that we have no 
" Yellow Book " ; but we do have illustrated magazines ; 
and some of them, like those published by the Harper 
Brothers and The Century Company have in the past ex- 
erted an influence so excellent as to have earned a right 
to be considered authoritative in matters of art. But 
what kind of taste is being cultivated to-day ? It is safe 
to say that, twenty-five years ago, no American publishers 



REPRESENTA TIOM IN PAIN TING AND SCULP TV RE. 2$J 

of respectable standing would have allowed their imprint 
to appear on the same page with the artistic vulgarities 
which our foremost firms are now flaunting upon one's 
eyes from the posters and even covers of their periodi- 
cals ; nor, if so flaunted, would any one, old enough to live 
outside a nursery, have looked at such effects a second 
time. But now they are supposed to commend them- 
selves to the taste of several millions of people, many 
of whom, after the schooling that they have received 
through gradations downward to the present low level, 
are actually expected to think them interesting and, if 
critics, to speak of them as artistic ! Nor is there any 
commercial excuse for this abuse of artistic opportunity. 
It seems to be owing to sheer aesthetic wantonness irre- 
sponsibly debauching popular taste. A single glance at the 
covers of " Borderland," for instance, will show any one 
of sense the feasibility, at least, whatever may be thought 
of certain details, of uniting significance and form so as to 
render even a commercial feature highly artistic. 

Does this comment seem to involve treating evident 
absurdities too seriously? Does any one feel prompted 
to excuse them because they are merely manifestations of 
a species of play? So, as shown in Chapter VII. of 
"Art in Theory," is all art. The point to be observed is 
that the manner of the play reveals the matter of the art- 
conception. Besides this, it is important to observe, too, 
that, owing to the necessarily imitative action of the mind 
in connection with all art-development, nothing can de- 
generate quite so rapidly, when allowed once to start in 
the wrong direction, as art can. If any one doubts that 
we are getting ready, at short notice, to take a stride all 
the way back to the artistic conditions of the middle ages, 
it might be well for him to ponder the facts just men- 



238 PAINTING, SCULPTURE, AND ARCHITECTURE. 

tioned. Why are they facts? There can be only one of 
two reasons, — either because too few inventive brains are 
left among our artists to give us products representative 
both of mind and of nature ; or else because too few 
aesthetic brains are left among our patrons of art to 
make demands upon the artists which will necessitate 
their finding out exactly what art is. 



CHAPTER XIII. 

REPRESENTATION OF MENTAL CONCEPTIONS IN PAINT- 
ING AND SCULPTURE. 

Our Interest in Objects of Sight is Influenced by their Effects upon our 
Thoughts and Emotions — Bearing of this Fact upon Representation 
in Painting and Sculpture — Bearing of the Same upon the Use of the 
Term, The Humanities — Practical Reasons for Disregarding the Im- 
portance of Significance — Attention to Significance not Inconsistent 
with Equal Attention Given to Form — Nor Attention to Form with 
Attention to Significance — Theoretical Reasons for Disregarding the 
Importance of Significance : Lessing's Theory — The Truth of this 
not Denied in these Essays — The Real Meaning of his Theory — The 
Principle Underlying it — The Reasons Underlying this Principle — 
Pictures that are not Able to Interpret themselves — When a Picture 
is truly Literary — Illustrations — Events, though they should not be 
Detailed in Pictures, may be Suggested. 

TT is impossible to take very great interest in a face, or 
figure, or even in a view of rocks, or foliage, or water, 
except as something in the expression of the face, or in the 
attitude of the figure, or in the arrangement or general effect 
of the objects comprised in the view, strikes us, as we say. 
This is a graphic way of representing the fact, that 
thoughts and emotions are stirred to activity when the eye 
perceives objects, just as inevitably as rays of light sur- 
round a match when it is struck. Inseparably, in such 
cases two elements of interest are present. One is the re- 
sult of the effect perceived by the eye ; the other, of the ef- 

239 



24O PAINTING, SCULPTURE, AND ARCHITECTURE. 

feet experienced in the mind. This latter effect consists of 
imaginative experiences which, according to the methods 
unfolded in Chapter I., are suggested by way of association 
or of comparison. It is when faces appear to be thinking 
or feeling something, when figures, alone or in connection 
with other figures, appear to be doing something, when 
fields, houses, hills, waves, clouds, give indications of cul- 
ture, comfort, convulsion, storm, or sunshine, whatever it 
may be, — it is then, and in the exact degree in which this 
is so, that the objects in connection with which we have 
these suggestions prove most interesting. The worth of a 
diamond is measured by the quantity and quality of the 
light emitted by it. The worth of an object of perception 
is measured by the quantity and quality of " that light 
which never was on sea or land " — in other words, by the 
amount and character of thought and emotion which it 
awakens. 

If this be so — and who can deny it? — why does it not 
follow that the art which represents these visible objects 
can be successful in the degree only in which it represents 
also the thought or emotion upon which so much of their 
interest depends ? Such certainly must be the conclusion 
of all except those who pretend to hold a theory which 
even they themselves do not seem to understand, 
namely, that, given the art-form, the art-thought appro- 
priate for it will be suggested necessarily. As a critic of 
" Art in Theory " took occasion to say : "Art is simply, 
wholly, and entirely a matter of form. . . . The best 
critical judgment opinion, nowadays, assumes the identity 
of the art-form with the art-meaning." The only trouble 
with this answer is that, in the sense in which one would 
naturally interpret it, it is not true. All art-significance 
must be expressed through art-form ; but precisely the 



MENTAL COXCEPTIONS IN PAINTING. 24 f 

same natural form selected for art-imitation may convey a 
very different quality of significance according to the 
treatment given it by the artist. One thing that he can 
always do, is to arrange features so as to make them ex- 
press what he wishes them to express. It is always 
possible for him to analyze and separate a form charming 
in itself from a significance which could make it still more 
charming. He can paint a face in such a passive con- 
dition that it will appear to have no mind behind it ; or he 
can rouse his model to reflection or laughter, or imagine 
for himself the results of these, and transfer from the face 
to his canvas only such colors and outlines as give one a 
glimpse of the soul. Still more can he do the same when 
it is possible, in accordance with the principles of panto- 
mime, to arrange for his purposes the pose of the whole 
figure ; and the result may be rendered yet more effective 
through the opportunities afforded by the mutual rela- 
tions, each to each, which may be indicated through the 
poses of several figures. The same principle applies also 
to landscapes. It is one thing to represent the material 
effects of sunshine and storm, and another thing to repre- 
sent their mental effects, — the effects which they have 
upon the imagination ; and a painter can content himself 
with doing the first, or, if he choose, he can do both. 
This is not to say that, if he do merely the former, his 
product will have no significance. Wherever there is form 
there is some significance, if only because there is a lack 
of it. What is meant by the ground taken in this para- 
graph is that unless the artist have it in mind to represent 
significance, his work, as a rule, will reveal only such as is 
of trifling importance, such as has no distinctive meaning ; 
and art that is not distinctive in a direction in which it 

might be so, is not art of a high quality. 
16 



242 PAINTING, SCULPTURE, AND ARCHITECTURE. 

Or look at the subject in another light. Instead of con- 
sidering particular works of art, as they appeal to indi- 
viduals, take them collectively, as they appeal to men in 
general. What do men call them ? One term, almost 
universally used, is " the humanities." Would this term 
have been used by way of distinction unless it had been 
thought possible to embody in the art-work all the high- 
est possibilities of humanity ? Certainly not. But is there 
any highest possibility of humanity which is not connected 
with the human mind ? Certainly not, again. But what 
is the mind ? What but a reservoir of thought and emotion 
ever on the alert to detect significance in everything that 
is seen, and to express this in everything that is handled? 
And what is a human mind ? A mind in a body, not so ? 
And this body is a combination of nerves and muscles, 
sensitive to every phase of apparent form, and capable of 
being trained to an almost limitless extent in the direction 
of reproducing it. The arts, therefore, which are dis- 
tinctively the humanities, must involve both the expres- 
sion of significance and the reproduction of form. 

Why then do any hold an opposite theory ? First, 
undoubtedly, because of a practical reason. This is 
grounded, too, upon their own experience. We judge of 
others by ourselves. We judge of their art by the art which 
is possible to ourselves. While great art requires great, 
breadth of view and distance of aim, the majority of men 
are not great. Their views are narrow, and their goals are 
near them. When their attention is directed to signifi- 
cance, they forget to attend to the requirements of form ; 
and when attention is directed to form, they forget about 
significance. That which they themselves do, they natu- 
rally suppose that everybody must do. Human nature 
being what it is, they naturally come to think too that 



MENTAL CONCEPTIONS IN PAINTING. 243 

this is what everybody ought to do. For, unless they are 
to admit that they, themselves, are not entitled to rank 
with artists of the foremost class, what can be allowed to 
determine excellence in art except their own standards? 
At periods like the beginning of the present century, or 
in countries like England or Germany, where value in art 
is mainly thought to be determined by significance, this is 
that for which they aim ; and in the degree in which they 
are forced to recognize that there can be no accurate re- 
production of appearances without thorough study of the 
methods of the best artists, and facility acquired by per- 
sistent practice, they will be anxious to convince them- 
selves and to persuade others that mastery in significance 
can compensate for a lack of mastery in technique. On 
the other hand, at a period like the present, and in coun- 
tries like France and our own, where value in art is mainly 
thought to be determined by success in reproducing ap- 
pearances, they will aim to do this ; and, in the degree in 
which they are forced to recognize that significance cannot 
be given to an art-product without great constructive 
exercise of imagination and invention, they will be anxious 
to believe for themselves, and to persuade the world that 
success in technique can compensate for success in ren- 
dering the product significant. 

But, to go back to the opinion from which these last 
views are deductions, is it a fact that attention to signifi- 
cance is inconsistent with an equal degree of attention 
given to form ? Why should this be the case ? In poetry 
a metaphor or simile is not less but more successful in the 
degree in which to the representation of the thought in- 
volved it adds fidelity to the scene in nature by a com- 
parison with which this thought is represented. Notice 
the italicized words in the following : 



244 PAINTING, SCULPTURE, AND ARCHITECTURE. 

And multitudes of dense, white, fleecy clouds 

Were wandering in thick flocks along the mountains, 

Shepherded by the slow, unwilling wind. 

— Prometheus Unbound \ ii., I : Shelley. 

I 've learned to prize the quiet lightning deed ; 
Not the applauding thunder at its heels, 
Which men call fame. 

— A Life Drama, 13 : Alex. Smith. 

_^~- Still as a slave before his lord, 
The ocean hath no blast ; 
His great bright eye most silently 
Up to the moon is cast. 

— The Ancient Mariner : Coleridge. 

I should make very forges of my cheeks, 
That would to cinders bum up modesty, 
Did I but speak thy deeds. 

— Othello, iv., 2 : Shakespear. 

This battle fares like to the morning's war, 
When dying clouds contend with growing light ; 
What time the shepherd, blowing of his nails, 
Can neither call it perfect day nor night. 

— 3 Henry VI., ii., 5: Idem. 

The same principle applies to accuracy in the imitation 
of forms which in painting and sculpture also may embody 
significance. In this and the next two chapters we are to 
treat of the representation of this latter ; and in Chapter 
XVI. of the representation of the appearances of nature. 
There is nothing inconsistent in insisting upon the pos- 
sibility and necessity of giving equal attention to both. 

But, just here, we are reminded that, besides this prac- 
tical reason underlying the theory that significance and 
form are not equally essential in the art-product, there is, 
as urged, especially in our own time by those who term 



MENTAL CONCEPTIONS IN PAINTING. 245 

the representation of thought in art " literary," a supposed 
philosophical reason. This is presumed to be a logical 
inference from the conclusions reached by Lessing in his 
famous criticism, defining the limitations of poetry and 
painting, entitled " The Laocoon." According to him, 
the subject of poetry, because this is presented in words 
that follow one another in time, should be confined to 
that which in nature is presented in time, as is the case 
with events described in stories. The subject of a paint- 
ing or a statue, however, because this is presented in a 
material that exists in space, should be confined to that 
which in nature is presented in space. " This," say these 
artists and the critics who uphold them, " is an acknowl- 
edged principle in art ; and pictures which tell a story 
violate it. Therefore it is that, when they do this, we 
term them ' literary,' and, in doing so, we imply, and 
have a right to imply, that they are inartistic." 

But is it not possible that one may acknowledge the 
general truth of Lessing's theory, and yet deny the legiti- 
macy of the special application of it which is made in this 
particular case ? Not only is the general accuracy of 
Lessing's theory acknowledged in " Art in Theory," but a 
correlated and confirmatory theory is advanced, derived 
from the requirements not merely of the external medium 
in which the subjects of these arts are presented, but also 
of the mental condition in which they are originated. In 
Chapter XIX. the fact is pointed out that in the phase of 
consciousness represented in poetry, the man thinks of 
certain scenes in the external world because they are sug- 
gested, not by anything that he is actually, at the time, 
perceiving there, but by his own recollections of them as 
they exist in thought. To one likening his actions in a 
battle to that of Wellington at Waterloo and of Grant at 



246 PAINTING, SCUIPTURE, AND ARCHITECTURE. 

Vicksburg, these men are not really present, only ideally 
so. As objects of thought they are not outside of his 
mind, they are in it. For this reason, any descriptive de- 
tails are out of place in poetry other than those of such 
prominence that a man observing them may reasonably 
be supposed to be able to retain them in memory ; — other 
than those, to state it differently, which are illustrative in 
their nature, and truly representative, therefore, of ideas 
within the mind as excited to conscious activity by influ- 
ences from without. There is, of course, a certain inter- 
est, though sometimes not above that which is merely 
botanic and topographic, awakened by minute descrip- 
tions of flowers and fields such as a painter on the spot 
would be able to give while scrutinizing them in order to 
depict them. But this interest may be just as different 
from that which, in the circumstances, is aesthetic, as it 
would be were it merely didactic or dogmatic. On the 
contrary, in the mood represented in painting, the man 
thinks of external scenes because they are actually before 
him. He is clearly conscious therefore of two different 
sources of thought — one within, the other without. The 
objective world is really present. If he wish to represent 
this fact, therefore, he cannot use merely words. Words 
can contain only what is in the mind, or ideally present. 
In order to represent in any true sense what is really 
present he must use what is really before him, i. e., an in- 
disputably external medium, as in painting, sculpture, and 
architecture. 

These statements are a proof that, whatever may be 
said here is not, at least, supposed to go contrary to the 
general theory of Lessing. But, in order to understand 
that it does not, one must first perceive exactly what 
Lessing meant. To do this, so far as concerns the more 



MENTAL CONCEPTIONS IN PAINTING. 



247 



superficial application of his principle, is not difficult. He 
meant, of course, that painters should not attempt to por- 
tray different events supposably occurring at different 
periods of time. He meant that nothing should be deline- 
ated not supposably perceptible at one and the same 




FIG. 155.— EPITOMIZED STORY OF ISAAC, JACOB, AND ESAU. RELIEF FROM BAPTISTRY, 
FLORENCE. LORENZO GHIBERTI. 

See pages 248, 286, 302. 

time. His principle would rule out, therefore, as unfitted 
for representation in painting, a great many religious, sym- 
bolic and even historic paintings, most of these produced 
in earlier ages, but some also in our own age. In the 
Vatican, for instance, there is a Greek manuscript which 



248 PAINTING, SCUIPTURE, AND ARCHITECTURE. 

represents the life of Joshua in a series of illustrations 
which, like the reliefs in Trajan's column, form a continu- 
ous band. In the " Adoration of the Magi " by Bernar- 
dino Luini, we see not only the Magi bowing before the 
infant Christ in the foreground, but also have a view of 
their journey from their home, represented in a line of 
horses and camels heavily laden descending in a zig-zag 
pathway the side of a hill in the background ; and in the 
same painter's " Presentation at the Temple," besides 
this ceremony in the front of the picture, in the rear of it 
is shown us the flight of the same parties into Egypt. So, 
too, in the single relief from the " Baptistry of Florence," 
by Lorenzo Ghiberti, an epitome is presented of the sto- 
ries of Isaac, Jacob, and Esau, all three (Fig. 1 55, page 247). 
Again, in the Staircase Hall of the " New Museum " at 
Berlin, there are six large allegorical paintings by Kaul- 
bach. In that one of them entitled "The Destruction of 
Jerusalem," characters are brought together all the way 
from the time of Isaiah through that of Titus to that of 
the Wandering Jew. In the one entitled " The Age of 
the Reformation " we have Wy cliff and Calvin, Hans 
Sachs and Shakespear, Leonardo da Vinci and Kaul- 
bach himself. In an analogous way, in " The School of 
Athens," Fig. 156, page 249, Raphael has placed not only 
Greek philosophers living at different periods but the Per- 
sian Zoroaster, and even, in the largest figures at the ex- 
treme right, himself with his master, Perugino. Whether 
these paintings violate the principle of Lessing, and, 
whether, if they do, they deserve censure, is of course, an 
open question. Some would argue that those of Kaul- 
bach and Raphael at least do not. They would say that 
to bring together characters living at different periods 
involves no violation of Lessing's principle because it is 




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2 SO PAINTING, SCULPTURE, AND ARCHITECTURE. 

possible and probable that the imagination, in summoning 
before its vision, the " Destruction of Jerusalem," or " The 
Reformation," or " The School of Athens," would do the 
same. They would argue, besides this, on the principle 
that the " proof of the pudding is the eating," that, as a 
fact, these very pictures are greatly admired, and therefore 
actually do satisfy aesthetic tastes. 

These considerations suggest that, underlying Lessing's 
theory, may be a principle more important than that 
which is fulfilled as a result of a mere literal interpreta- 
tion of it. A picture is something perceptible in a moment 
of time. To represent with accuracy anything true to 
this condition, all the aesthetic interest attaching to its 
form or to its significance should be suggested through 
factors all of which are supposably perceptible at this 
moment. In the " Presentation at the Temple " by Luini, 
mentioned on page 248, this principle is clearly violated ; 
because it is impossible to suppose that the same family 
at precisely the same time should be in the temple and 
also, as is represented, engaged in fleeing to Egypt. With 
reference to the pictures of Kaulbach and Raphael, on the 
contrary, it may be argued that the principle is not vio- 
lated, because in no case are the same characters repre- 
sented as doing different things at the same time, and, 
although they actually did live at different periods in his- 
tory, they are represented in the picture as all living at 
the same period. 

A further consideration, justifying the aesthetic interest 
excited by these latter pictures, will be mentioned pres- 
ently. Just now the most important suggestion forcing 
itself upon us is that, possibly, Lessing's principle has not 
been thoroughly understood; and that, if it had been, 
certain apparent violations of it would not be deemed so 



MENTAL CONCEPTIONS IN PAINTING. 25 I 

in reality. Lot us ask, then — for we must never forget 
that a principle cannot be applied successfully, except as 
one understands the reason underlying it — let us ask what 
was the reason underlying Lessing's principle — What was 
it but this? He objected to pictures necessitating the 
delineation of successive events because they attempt the 
impossible. Successive events are never perceived at one 
time. Therefore they cannot be represented at one time, 
and a picture which attempts to represent them thus is 
unnatural ; and — largely because it is so — cannot be un- 
derstood without an explanation. Nobody can under- 
stand Luini's " Presentation in the Temple," described 
on page 248, unless some one tells him, or he himself 
discovers, as a result of no little thinking, that the same 
family represented as in the temple subsequently un- 
dertook the flight into Egypt. Lessing's idea was that 
a painting should not need such an explanation ; that, as 
a work of art, it should embody the source of its own 
interest; that it should be able, in all cases, to interpret 
itself. 

But suppose that, for the reason which Lessing gave 
when he said that it should present only that which could 
be perceived at one time, or for any other reason, the pict- 
ure is not able to interpret itself. Then it needs an expla- 
nation. Such an explanation is necessarily made in words, 
and, often, in printed words. Words, whether printed or 
not, are the substance of literature. A painting which 
cannot be of interest until one is made acquainted with 
the literature of the subject, until one has read or heard 
the words of a story which it is supposed to illustrate — 
what is this? — What, but a painting which may be said 
to owe its interest to literature ; and in this sense a paint- 
ing that is "literary." It is to subjects of such paintings 



252 PAINTING, SCUIPTURE, AND ARCHITECTURE. 

that John Opie, in the second of his " Lectures on De- 
sign," refers, when he says that they " are incapable of 
affording more than a bald and insipid representation on 
canvas. Of this description is the incident in the Iliad, 
where one of Priam's younger sons, fallen before the supe- 
rior force of Achilles, solicits his life on account of his 
youth. ' Wretch,' exclaims the furious hero, ' dost thou 
complain of dying when thou knowest that Achilles must 
shortly die ? ' Such also is the celebrated passage in 
Corneille's ' Horatii,' where the father of one set of the 
combatants, on being informed that his son, left single 
against his three antagonists, had turned his back, appears 
much agitated and enraged ; and when one of his attend- 
ants asks, ' What should your son have done? ' instantly 
retorts, ' He should have died.' " 

According to what has been said, it will be perceived 
that the term " literary," as one of disparagement, is 
rightly applied to pictures that need to be interpreted by 
a verbal story ; in other words to pictures that do not 
represent their own story. But is this what is meant by 
those who, in our own time, most use the term ? No ; but 
often the opposite. The term is applied to pictures that 
do represent their own story ; and because they do this 
(See page 270). Thus a deduction from Lessing's prin- 
ciple is made in order to disparage the very kind of 
pictures that he would have commended. Nor is it the 
first time that inability to interpret the spirit of a law 
beneath the letter of it has caused the disciples of a master 
to suppose themselves to be following his lead, when they 
are going in diametrically the opposite direction. 

Nor, even when following his lead, do such disciples 
know why they do it. Most of them would probably term 
" literary " the pre-Raphaelite " Girlhood of the Virgin 



MENTAL CONCEPTIONS IN PAINTING. 253 

Mary" (Fig. 151, page 229); and would do this on the 
ground that it's interest is made dependent upon a story. 
But upon what story? Upon one that the picture repre- 
sents? No. The picture is literary ; but it is this because 
it does not — as they phrase it — " tell a story." It is an 
attempt at representative art which fails because it does 
not represent. No one can understand what it means with- 
out being acquainted with the literature of the subject, 
without having read or heard elsewhere the story of the 
Virgin Mary. On the other hand, some of the same critics 
would commend Millet's " Storm " (Fig. 152, page 231), as 
not literary on the ground that it does riot " tell a story." 
In this case, as in the former, they would be right in their 
use of the term, but wrong in the reason assigned for it. 
The picture is not literary ; but the reason is, that it does 
tell, or, more strictly, represent a story. Notice, also, that 
in this story of the storm are conveyed very distinct 
impressions of a series of events involving sources and 
results which could be developed only in time. 

But notice, too, that these series of events are not 
delineated in detail ; they are merely suggested. It is for 
this reason that they do not go contrary to the principle of 
Lessing. In the method of imparting the suggestion, there 
is no attempt to accomplish the impossible. And notice, 
again, that this suggestion is the source not only of the 
psychical effect produced by what we have termed sig- 
nificance, but also of a certain physical effect, which we 
term variously force, animation, life, or virility. It is not 
too much to say, therefore, that a suggestion of this kind 
is not only legitimate in paintings and statues, but essen- 
tial to certain characteristics without which they cannot 
manifest the highest excellence. 



CHAPTER XIV. 

FORMS OF PAINTING INTERPRETIVE OF THEIR OWN 
SIGNIFICANCE. 

The Possibility of Significance and the Need of Explanation — Quantity and 
Quality of Significance as Determining Artistic Excellence — Subjects as 
Determining the Rank of Products — Execution as Determining the 
Same — Flowers and Fruit — How made Representative of Significance — 
Landscapes — How made Representative of Significance — How still more 
of the Human Element may be Introduced — Other Examples — Figures 
and Faces of Men — Portraits — Characteristic Portraiture — Representa- 
tive of the Artist's Thought and Emotion — Ideal Portraiture- — Genre 
Paintings — Symbolical, Allegorical, and Mythological Paintings — His- 
torical Paintings — Examples. 

THE concluding paragraph of the last chapter will 
suggest two questions to those interested in the 
subject, both of which must be answered before this can 
be fully understood. One question concerns the possi- 
bilities of significance, and the other those of explanation. 
It may very naturally be asked whether all appearances 
represented in painting or sculpture can be made signifi- 
cant in themselves, and also whether all explanations de- 
pending upon acquaintance with the literature of a subject 
are to be denied legitimate influence in securing the 
aesthetic effect. 

To the first question — namely, whether all appearances 
imitated in painting or sculpture can be made significant 
in themselves, one can only give the answer suggested on 

254 



L 



PAINTING AS INTERPRETING ITSELF. 2$ 5 

page 241. They certainly can be, for the very evident 
reason that the mind always derives some thought or 
emotion from every perception whatever. The general 
fact, therefore, of a certain degree of significance must 
be admitted. What is denied by some and is asserted 
here, is that the artist has it in his power, by way of selec- 
tion and arrangement and general methods of imitation, 
to increase the quantity and quality of the significance; 
and that the excellence of his art must be judged by the 
way in which he exercises this power. 

As applied to the subjects represented, for instance, do 
we not all recognize that there is a difference between 
these ; and that this determines the difference in the rank 
of art-works ? Why has the world seldom, if ever, as- 
signed the same rank to painters of merely flowers or 
fruits or even of landscapes, that it has assigned to those, 
like Raphael, Titian, or Rubens, who have depicted the 
human figure ? Why are the greatest names in the his- 
tory of sculpture those whose statues are of men ? It is 
as difficult — not only so but, sometimes, because their laws 
of proportion have been less studied, more difficult — to 
model the forms of animals. Evidently, the world in 
general judges of subjects by the possibilities of signifi- 
cance in them. There is both greater opportunity and 
necessity for manifesting thought and emotion in connec- 
tion with a landscape than with a dish of fruit or a vase 
of flowers ; and in connection with human figures than 
with landscapes. 

This statement does not render it necessary to deny 
that many pictures of fruits and flowers are much superior, 
as works of art, to many pictures of human figures. The 
theory of this series of essays is that, in estimating the 
quality of the art, one must always consider both the way 



256 PAINTING, SCULPTURE, AND ARCHITECTURE. 

in which it represents significance, and the way in which 
it represents appearance ; and that success in one of these 
regards will not compensate wholly for failure in the 
other regard. A painter may try to depict human figures 
and produce far less artistic results than others who paint 
only cabbages. Indeed, even as regards the significance 
suggested, he may be less successful. All that is meant 
here is that, in case of equal skill in the imitation of form 
through the use of pencil, brush, or chisel, the art-work 
ranks highest which necessitates and, as practically applied 
to the product, manifests thought and emotion of the 
greatest quantity and the highest quality. Of course, 
this principle enables us to rank as subjects not only 
flowers and fruit below landscapes, and landscapes below 
human figures, but to rank below others certain products 
belonging to paintings of each class. In the latter mode 
of ranking, however, it is not the subject that causes the 
difference, but the particular treatment of it. Let us con- 
sider, now, how subjects of the same general character 
may be ranked differently according to the way in which 
the treatment affects the quantity and quality of signifi- 
cance. 

First of all, flowers in a vase, oranges, grapes, or apples 
in a dish, or wine or beer in a glass, — all these may be 
portrayed so artistically as to be exceedingly beautiful 
and worthy of a place in the foremost galleries. But it is 
easy to perceive that the appeal of the picture as a thing 
of significance may be differently determined by different 
circumstances. A man, brought up where flowers and 
fruit abound, if living temporarily in Greenland, or where 
he cannot get them, will probably find the picture more 
significant than one who has never been familiar with 
them or is living where he is not deprived of them. But 



PAINTIXG AS INTERPRETING ITSELF. 2^J 

what have such conditions to do, it may be asked, with 
the picture ? Are they not wholly extraneous to it? No, 
not necessarily. It is possible for the artist to embody in 
the picture the principle underlying" these conditions, and 
thus to make the picture itself significant of them or of 
some similar conditions. 

For instance, a vase of flowers represented as being in 
a room upon the sill of a closed window, beyond which, 
outside the house, can be seen snowdrifts and frost-laden 
trees ; or fruits and viands represented as being heaped 
upon a table notwithstanding a half-empty plate and glass 
and an unfolded napkin giving evidence that some one 
has already partaken of all that he wishes, with, perhaps, 
a window near by, through which a half-starved face of a 
child is wistfully peering, — arrangements like these, or 
hundreds of a similar character, which might be thought 
out or felt out, would put thought and emotion into the 
picture ; and thus make it representative of these. Can 
anybody deny that pictures thus made significant by 
means of arrangement, if equally well executed, would 
rank higher than pictures merely imitative? Notice, too, 
that in the degree in which significance is thus introduced 
into a painting, it necessarily calls attention to something 
that could not be suggested by the objects if depicted 
merely as they exist in nature. This something is an 
effect of rearrangement in accordance with a mental pur- 
pose. The objects as reproduced in art are thus made 
representative of the artist, of man ; and, therefore, it is 
that, in a true sense, the result may be said to belong to the 
humanities If we could imagine a picture in which the 
imitation was so accurate that no one could tell the dif- 
ference between it and nature, we should have a result 
that, on the surface, would not reveal itself to be the 
17 



2^8 PAINTING, SCULPTURE, AND ARCHITECTURE. 

product of a man. The effect would be indistinguishable 
from that of nature. But art is different from nature ; 
and, interesting and desirable as is success in imitation, 
clever deception is not synonymous with artistic skill. It 
must not be forgotten that, beyond imitation, and not at 
all interfering with it, something else needs to be super- 
imposed before the art-product can be crowned with that 
which is indicative of its having a right to the highest rank. 
If this be true of representations of fruits and of flowers, 
it must be still more true of those of natural scenery. It 
is possible for a painter to imitate the outlines and colors 
of scenes that he sees before him, without reference to 
any consciousness of receiving or conveying impressions 
of thought or emotion in connection with them. Of 
course, all nature has some effect upon the mind, whether 
or not one is distinctly conscious of the fact. It is con- 
ceivable, therefore, that a picture composed with no higher 
purpose than that of exact imitation might prove — just 
as would the natural scene which it imitates — exceedingly 
significant. Many a man who desires to do no more than 
tell a good story in a tale or a ballad does this so graphic- 
ally that it is as full of imaginative suggestiveness as if he 
had intended to make it so. The same result follows in 
landscape painting. The art of a product must be judged 
by the effect which it produces, not by the method of 
producing this. If a painter happen to select a sugges- 
tive scene, his imitation of it may be equally suggestive. 
But it is simply a fact, and one that needs always to be 
borne in mind, that notwithstanding some exceptional 
successes of this kind, no story-teller or painter can, as a 
rule, produce a series of successful products except as a 
result of an intelligent adaptation of artistic means to 
artistic ends. 



PAINTING AS INTERPRETING ITSELF. 259 

An artist who has recognized the elements which make 
a scene suggestive will be more likely to select these 
than will an artist who has not. The suggestions naturally 
given by certain predominating sizes and shapes have 
been indicated in Chapters III. to X., and those given by 
certain predominating colors in Chapter XI. Now, with 
what has just been said, a glance back at Fig. 17, page 43 
or 18, page 45, or 32, page 67, or 33, page 69, will reveal 
not only how probable, but how inevitable it is that every 
landscape should be significant of some phase of thought 
and emotion. Notice, moreover, that in the degree in 
which, in the art-work, the factors indicating significance 
are emphasized, as they are, for instance, in Fig. 17, page 
43, or 152, page 231, — in that degree, attention is called 
both to that which the external world naturally suggests 
and, also, nor any less distinctly, to that which the artist, 
by his arrangements, has made his picture of it suggest ; 
or, in other words, to human thought and emotion, and it 
is mainly these latter that make such a picture rank higher 
as a work of the humanities. When George Inness paints 
a winter scene with the dark radiating branches of the 
leafless trees in silhouette against a background of snow, 
a large part of our interest in the picture comes from the 
impression conveyed to us that the artist has discovered, 
and is pointing out to us, elements of beauty of which we 
have never before thought, and which, consequently, we 
have never before seen. The same is true of the twilight 
effects of Corot. 

There are other landscapes in which the human element 
is emphasized still more decidedly. This is not to say 
that they are, therefore, absolutely better or greater. The 
rank of a work of art is determined not only by its aim, 
but by the degree in which it attains this aim, whatever it 



260 PATNTTNG, sculpture, and architecture. 

may be ; and the higher the aim, the more difficult often 
is it to reach. But just as a drama, if successful, is greater 
than a ballad, so a painting in which the representation of 
thought and emotion is directly necessitated, is greater 
than one in which this is not the case. " The Storm " of 
Millet (Fig. 152, page 231) is not a great picture; but it 
certainly deserves a higher rank than it would otherwise, 
on account of the apparent human influence which has 
made a unity of its every suggestion. Even aside from 
the additional interest that may be imparted by explana- 
tions, the same may be affirmed, too, of Rottmann's series 
of encaustic paintings in the New Pinakothek in Munich. 
These represent the historic sites of Greece with such ar- 
rangements of sun and cloud, light and shade, that, in 
many cases, the very atmosphere of the work seems a part 
of the associations naturally awakened in the mind by the 
scenes presented. Ranking higher than these, are the 
landscapes of Ruysdael. In his " Landscape with Water- 
fall " in the National Gallery in London, the ground, trees, 
clouds, and atmosphere seems filled with water ; and in 
his " Jewish Cemetery " in the Dresden Gallery (Fig. 157, 
page 261) the profound melancholy of the whole is only 
heightened by the contrasting light of the pale sunbeam 
that falls upon some of the tombstones, and of the rain- 
bow in the rear. All things else, — the decaying grave- 
stones, the decaying building, the decaying tree, barkless 
and crooked ; and, not only these, but in strict analogy 
with them, the clouds and water too, under the influence 
of wind and current are all absolutely congruous in their 
effects. Ranking still higher, are some of the pictures of 
Claude and Turner. Ruskin contrasts the two painters to 
the disparagement of the former. But the crowning 
quality in each of them is really the same, namely, the 



PAINTING AS INTERPRETING ITSELF. 



26l 



ability to represent thought and emotion through the rep- 
resentation of nature. It is not too much to say, either, 
that one who had read Ruskin, seeing for the first time 
certain pictures of Claude, would suppose them to be 




FIG. 157. -JEWISH CEMETERY. J. RUYSDAEL. 

See page 260. 

Turner's, so exactly do they correspond to Ruskin's con- 
ceptions of the latter; or that seeing for the first time 
certain pictures of Turner, he would suppose them to be 



262 PAINTING, SCULPTURE, AND ARCHITECTURE. 

Claude's. To illustrate equally what has been said of both, 
in Claude's " Morning" in the Dresden Gallery, we have 
represented not only in a yellow sky the dawn of the day, 
but suggestions of the dawning or beginning of many other 
things — as for instance, in a lake, the beginning of a river ; 
in a shepherd playing on his pipe, the beginning of music ; 
in a maid sitting beside him, the beginning of romance ; 
in a basket, as yet unopened, covered with a white cloth, 
as well as in another maid, drawing water from a well, the 
beginning of social feasting ; in a castle built in an early 
style, the beginning of art or architecture ; in a city 
faintly seen at a distance, the beginning of civilization ; 
in a group called the Holy Family, because of its resem- 
blance to this, as conventionally depicted, the beginning 
of religion. A similar unity of effect is also apparent in 
Wouverman's " Cavalry Charge " in the same gallery 
where not only smoke and clouds but falling soldiers, 
burning castles, and men and horses all seem to be under 
the influence of the same conception of destruction. 

The methods of suggesting thought and emotion no- 
ticed in these last two pictures, involves the introduction 
of living figures. This brings us to that department of 
painting in which the necessity of planning for signifi- 
cance is most unmistakable. Of living figures, first of all, 
perhaps, ought to be mentioned animals. That these 
may be made to represent significance needs no proof to 
any one who has seen any of the typical pictures of Land- 
seer (Fig. 158, page 263). There are those who object to 
his way of indicating correspondences between the expres- 
sions and positions of dumb beasts and of human beings 
placed in similar circumstances. But the fact remains 
that he introduces the significance at which he aims 



■fc> 



with no detriment to his imitative effects. His dogs are 



PA IX TING AS INTERPRETING ITSELE. 



263 



real dogs ; and, besides this, no one can deny that his suc- 
cess in making them expressive of thought and feeling 
has added greatly to the characteristics making them 
interesting and charming; and this to those, too, who are 
qualified to judge of them as works of art. Usually, how- 




158— DIGNITY AND IMPUDENCE. LANDSEER. 
See pages 262, 263. 



ever, the forms of animals, as well as of inanimate nature, 
are rendered significant most effectively when presented in 
connection with the forms of human beings, as in Figs. 22, 
page 50; 35, page 72 ; and 94, page 152. 

We now come to the faces and figures of men. Of 



264 PAINTING, SCULPTURE, AND ARCHITECTURE.' 

course, it is easy enough to perceive how pictures of cer- 
tain of them should represent significance. But it is 
not clear that to do this is possible, or even desirable, 
for all such pictures ; or that their rank should be deter- 
mined by the degree in which they attain this end. In 
what sense, for instance, can a portrait of one whom we 
have not known, or the supposed portrait of some historic 
or mythologic personage, be made to tell its own story, 
or enough of a story to satisfy the demands of interest? 
How could either be made of interest aside from that 
which would fall under the general head, as we have in- 
terpreted it, of explanation ? 

Let us try to answer this question. Some portraits 
are certainly not interesting at all aside from what we 
know of the persons whom they are intended to portray. 
They may, too, be good portraits. But, according to the 
theory of this book, they are not portraits of the highest 
rank. These are interesting in themselves, interesting as 
pictures, aside from any resemblance to particular per- 
sons. Take the famous "Blue Boy" of Gainsborough — 
nothing but a full-length picture of a very pretty boy. 
How many care to know, before admiring it fully, whose 
portrait it is ? Aside from any knowledge of th'is, or of 
the family to whom he belonged, who would not like to 
have it hanging always where he could see it? Why? 
Because it is typical of beautiful and graceful boyhood 
wherever it exists; and as such appeals by way of associ- 
ation and comparison to the thought and emotion of 
every one who has ever been a father, mother, sister, 
brother, or friend of youth. Or take Munzig's portrait 
of Mrs. W. Seward Webb and her boy in the last " Loan 
Exhibition " of New York. Could not precisely the same 
be affirmed of it? It is not interest in the particular 
persons represented that causes us to enjoy this picture, 



PA IX TING AS INTERPRETING ITSELF. 265 

but our interest in humanity in general. Or take any of 
the smaller Madonnas of Raphael. They appeal to uni- 
versal sympathy because they are typical of motherhood 
and childhood everywhere. If the faces were ugly, to 
tell us that they represent the Virgin and her child would 
not make them appear beautiful or attractive ; although, 
doing this, the explanation might enhance our interest in 
them. The same is true of historic, symbolic, and alle- 
goric paintings. Who, that has had much experience in 
picture galleries has not been annoyed by the persistence 
of some in asking for explanations of every painting of 
this kind the moment that they set eyes upon it. No 
picture has the highest merit that cannot, of itself, inter- 
pret itself — sufficiently, at least, to make it of some 
aesthetic interest. One can find enough to admire in 
Kaulbach's " Taking of Jerusalem " without the slightest 
conception of what is its whole intent. In its right fore- 
ground, for instance, is a group of parents and children. 
We know that they are beautiful, and are escaping from 
the general catastrophe. By way of explanation, it has 
been said that the group represents the Holy Family. But 
it is a question whether any spectator ever experienced 
much increase of aesthetic pleasure on account merely of 
this explanation. The picture is supposed to be sym- 
bolical, but it is not too much to say that, as a picture, it 
is a success in the degree in which of itself it tells some 
part, at least, of an interesting story. The same may be 
affirmed of Guido's "Aurora," Fig. 34, page 71. To one 
having no knowledge of the myth upon which it is 
founded, the graceful beauty and vivacity of the horses, 
the driver, and the encircling maidens are of themselves 
sufficient to awaken a very great deal of aesthetic admira- 
tion and enjoyment. 

But to go back to portraits. By the exercise of a little 



266 PAINTING, SCULPTURE, AND ARCHITECTURE. 

brain-work it is always possible, in picturing a person, to 
introduce something which, without verbal interpretation, 
will represent, and enable the mind to recognize, his char- 
acter. This causes what is termed ideal portraiture. Thus 
Lang in " Art, its Laws and the Reasons for them/' 
tells us that Reynolds, in his portrait of General Elliot, 
the British commander at Gibraltar in the year when it 
was attacked by the combined French and Spanish force, 
represents him in his military uniform with a key in his 
hands, indicative of the fact that the citadel was the key 
of the Mediterranean ; while, in the distance, two squad- 
rons engaged in battle, and behind him a cannon pointed 
downward, suggest the severity of the contest and the 
height of the fortress. It probably would have been 
better to have said that the keys were intended to rep- 
resent the general's holding the fortress and not sur- 
rendering its keys, rather than to represent the fortress as 
the key of the Mediterranean. The latter conception seems 
to involve that of an embodied pun. Otherwise the de- 
scription of the portrait is worth noticing. Observe, too, 
in this connection Macmonnies' statue of Nathan Hale 
in the City Hall Park, New York (Fig. 159, page 267). Can 
any one fail to recognize how largely its excellence is 
determined by the way in which it tells its own story — 
that of the spy, when bound for execution, manifesting the 
spirit expressed in the words, " I only regret that I have 
but one life to give for my country." More realistic, but 
faithful to a true conception of the character represented, 
is St. Gaudens' statue of Farragut on Madison Square, 
New York. But why was it not mounted on a realistic 
pedestal? — something to show the connection between 
the man and a ship, instead of an attempt at symbolism 
not in keeping with what is above it. Even the symbol- 
ism, too, in the circumstances, really means nothing. 



PAINTING AS INTERPRETING ITSELF. 



267 



Had the Americans 
believed in sea- 
nymphs or mer- 
maids, and had the 
Admiral been 
drowned at sea, it 
might be different ; 
but as it is, its lack 
of appropriateness 
was, perhaps, never 
so well paralleled as 
by the almost uni- 
versal chorus of 
commendation that 
greeted it in the 
American art-jour- 
nals when it was 
first unveiled. 

The principle un- 
derlying what has 
been said, is that the 
artist with the brains 
to perceive the 
thoughts and emo- 
tions suggested by 
the character of a 
subject for portrait- 
ure and the skill to 
embody them in his 
product, can make 
it representative of 
these. As was 
shown in the cases, 
too, of fruits and 




FIG. 159.— STATUE OF NATHAN HALE. 
See pages 267, 281. 



MACMONNIES. 



268 PAINTING, SCULPTURE, AND ARCHITECTURE. 

landscapes, he can make it representative not only of 
the thoughts and emotions ascribable to the person 
portrayed, but often too of those ascribable to him- 
self. To illustrate how this may be done : Some years 
ago, there was a picture in one of the New York exhi- 
bitions, entitled " Flowers for the Hospital." It con- 
tained the figure of a young girl with flowers in her 
hand — nothing more. If, in the background, at the end 
of the path along which the girl was walking, there 
had been represented, however faintly, a hospital having 
patients seated in front of it, or sick faces gazing out of 
an open window— anything of this sort to tell the story, 
then, whatever there was in the face of the chief figure to 
indicate the destination of the flowers would have had' 
some meaning. Moreover, in this case, the picture would 
have really meant " Flowers for the Hospital," and its 
subject would have been recognized without any label 
attached to it, in order, in an unsuccessful way, to make 
up for its lack in composition. Indeed, if well executed, 
a picture composed as has been indicated, and, in this 
case, merely because of its additional representation of 
significance — might have had in it the qualities of great- 
ness ; whereas, the title " Flowers for the Hospital " with 
the poverty of invention displayed, made this out of the 
question. 

But notice now other possibilities in this same picture 
by way of portraiture. Suppose that, taking a suggestion 
from the well known features of Florence Nightingale, 
the painter, as justified by her appearance in mature life, 
had idealized her supposed youthful appearance, and 
called his picture " Florence Nightingale in Youth." The 
composition of the picture, even to those who had never 
heard of Florence Nightingale, would still have indicated 
' l Flowers for the Hospital." But can any one fail to 



PA1XTIXG AS INTERPRETING IT SELF. 269 

recognize how, to those acquainted with her character, 
the poetic associations necessarily attaching themselves 
to the added significance, might have enabled the painting 
to attain a very high rank, impossible in other circum- 
stances? Notice, too, that this rank would have been 
attained, just as is the case in every art, because this 
added significance would have been plainly attributable, 
not to the subject of the picture as perceived in nature, 
but to the picture itself as conceived by the artist. In 
accordance with this analogy, it may be said that when 
any portrait is to be painted, that of which the great 
artist thinks is not merely outline and color, but the 
thoughts and emotions which outline and color, in the 
particular face before him, can be made to suggest. He 
asks what is the character, and what is the influence upon 
the mind, of the particular character that is to be por- 
trayed. Take a boy. If he be athletic in his tendencies, 
his character may be best brought out by standing him up 
in a lawn-tennis suit with a racket in his hand : if studious, 
by sitting him down with a book. In both cases, the 
pose can be made to tell its own story. In the latter case, 
if he be gazing up from his book with a dreamy, far-away 
look in his eyes, the picture, though a portrait, may be 
made to have all the interest that might attach to an 
idealization named " The Young Newton," or " The 
Young Scott " ; and, no matter whose boy it may be, 
he will seem interesting to every one. What makes any 
portrait the opposite, is less the fact that the person por- 
trayed is uninteresting, than the fact that the artist has 
not had enough penetration to discover what the traits 
are that are interesting, uniformly and universally ; or 
the ingenuity to extract them from their lurking-places 
and reveal and emphasize them. 

Now let us turn to products that have nothing to do 



2}70 PAINTING, SCULPTURE, AND ARCHITECTURE. 

with portraiture, and first to genre paintings, i. e., paint- 
ings of ordinary domestic life. It is with reference to 
these, mainly, that we hear the adverse criticism, in case 
they indicate an endeavor to suggest a story, that they 
are " literary." The inappropriateness of the term, as fre- 
quently used, was pointed out on page 252, as well as the 
fact that suggesting a story does not involve a violation of 
the principle of Lessing, — to the effect that a painting 
should not treat of subjects necessitating a portrayal of 
events taking place at different periods of time. A story 
maybe most effectively indicated, without any attempt to 
picture what cannot be supposibly seen at a single moment. 
Notice, for instance, Caravaggio's " Card Players " from 
the Dresden Gallery, Fig. 160, page 271. Here we see 
cards and money on a table. Seated at one side of this 
is a man with a dishonest face. On the other side of it, 
playing with him, is another man with an innocent face, 
evidently just the one to be made a dupe. Behind this 
last man, looking over his shoulder, stands a third, muffling 
his breath to prevent his presence from being detected, and 
holding up two fingers to let the first player know what 
cards are being played by the second. It would be im- 
possible by any verbal explanation to increase the signifi- 
cance of the story thus indicated by the mere appearance 
of the figures. Notice, again, H. Stacy Marks' " Author 
and Critics " (Fig. 29, page 63). The postures and faces 
in this indicate at once, and better than words could, pre- 
cisely what the whole means, — the author's self-satisfied 
enthusiasm, as well as the humiliation that may await him 
if by-and-by, when he comes to a pause, his hearers begin 
to have their say. Notice, too, Fig. 161, page 273, a pic- 
ture which was in the Chicago Columbian Exhibition and 
is used here by kind permission of its owner, Mr. Charles T. 



PA/XTIXG AS INTERPRETING ITSELF. 



2J\ 



Yerkes. No man can affirm that the painter of the 
picture, Van Beers, disregards the requirements of ex- 
ecution. But, for all that, one cannot look at it long, 
without having his attention drawn to its significance, a 
significance, too, that, at once suggests its source in the 
artist's own inventive brain. A fashionable woman of the 
world has left her carriage in charge of her coachman and 




FIG. 160.-CARD PLAYERS. CARAVAGGIO. 

See pages 169, 172, 270. 



footman and has seated herself in the park on a bench 
large enough for two. She is apparently waiting for some- 
thing, probably for some one. Who is it ? Of whom is 
she thinking ? What is the ideal enthroned over her 
reverie ? Just above her is a statue of a man without 
a head, but holding, where his mouth should be, a 



272 PAINTING, SCULPTURE, AND ARCHITECTURE, 

flute. Why so ? Think a moment. Is he not just what 
such a woman would want ? — such a man without a head 
who nevertheless is ready to pipe for her? Where is the 
representation of time in this picture? Yet it outlines a 
story as clearly and completely as one of Heine's lyrics. 
What was said on page 248, of Raphael's " School of 
Athens" (Fig. 156, page 249), as also of Kaulbach's 
" Reformation," and, on page 265 of the latter's " Destruc- 
tion of Jerusalem," and of Guido's " Aurora " (Fig. 34, 
page 71), will illustrate sufficiently for our purposes in 
what way mytkologic, symbolic, or allegoric paintings, while 
picturing appearances not conceivably perceptible, either 
at any one time, or at all, except in imagination, may, 
nevertheless, be so composed as, without the aid of a 
verbal explanation to awaken sufficient aesthetic interest. 
How they may do this may be well illustrated in a paint- 
ing which should be classed with the ones just mentioned, 
because it attempts to make visible what in reality is not 
so. This painting is " The Dream " by Detaille, Fig. 162 
page 275. The representation at once interprets itself. 
It does so, moreover, in the way which has already many 
times been said to be characteristic of art of the highest 
rank, namely, by calling attention not merely to sig- 
nificance in general, but to the particular significance 
added to the scene by the artist who painted it. Look- 
ing at the picture, we recognize that, in a distinctive 
sense, he has used the actual appearances of nature 
for the purpose of manifesting thoughts and emotions 
originated in his own mind. Partaking of the same 
general characteristics, though with features allying it to 
historical painting, is the " Dream of Jacob," by Bol, 
which may be seen in the Dresden Gallery. In this, the 
light descending in a broad ray from heaven falls upon 



274 PAINTING, SCULPTURE, AND ARCHITECTURE. 

the ear of Jacob, whose hood, at the same time, is pulled 
away from it by an attendant cherub. The patriarch, 
though slumbering, has an expression indicative of much 
interest, and an angel standing over him seems to be im- 
parting to him a blessing. 

Under the head of historical paintings are usually 
ranked those in which main emphasis is given to the 
depicting of events rather than of the actors in these, 
though often the depicting of the one necessitates that of 
the other, and, often too, an employment of real or ideal 
protraiture. As will be observed, the line of demarka- 
tion between historical paintings and those that are 
mythological, symbolical, or allegorical is not always 
clearly definable. So far as concerns details, there is little 
difference between the way in which characters would be 
related in a painting bordering as closely upon the 
symbolical as Kaulbach's " Destruction of Jerusalem " 
and in a strictly historical painting of, say, " The Burning of 
Moscow." Historical paintings are those in connection 
with which dependence upon averbal explanation is consid- 
ered to be most excusible. How can we understand them, 
is asked, unless we understand the historical facts which 
they depict ? Let us try to answer this question. Observe 
Gerome's " Pollice Verso," Fig. 8, page 31. In this, with- 
out knowing anything about the gladiatorial exhibitions 
of ancient Rome, any one can perceive, at a glance, that 
there has been a public contest ; that the contestant, 
who has been thrown to the ground, is in danger of 
losing his life ; that he is holding up his hand with a sign 
which we recognize to be an appeal to the people to have 
him saved ; and we know, too, that the majority of the 
spectators do not wish to have him saved, the ferocity of 
their countenances interpreting the meaning of the sign 




Q a 



2 10 

< M 

UJ 

ft- w 

(_ o 

I " 



2j6 PAINTING, SCtlPTURE, AND ARCHITECTURE. 

which they make with their hands, still more than does 
the fact that this sign is the opposite of the one made by 
the fallen victim. Or observe, again, Rubens' " Descent 
from the Cross," Fig. 163, page 277. Though we knew 
nothing of the story of the crucifixion, we should be 
aware that those in the foreground were taking down 
from a cross, on which he had been put to death, the form 
of one whom they all loved and revered. An analogous 
fact can be affirmed of Paul Veronese's " Adoration of the 
Magi," Fig. 35, page 72. Though we were not acquainted 
with the story of the Holy Child, we should perceive, with- 
out asking any questions, that, for some reason, he was 
the centre of interest for both man and beast. 

Nicolas Poussin's " Woman Taken in Adultery " (Fig. 
80, page 139) needs somewhat more explanation ; and 
Raphael's " Sacrifice at Lystra " (Fig. 164, page 279), 
though its interest is by no means independent of ex- 
planations, is worth examining in connection with the 
following description by Opie in the second of his " Lec- 
tures upon Design." According to this cartoon, he says, 
the inhabitants of Lystra were " about to offer divine 
honors to Paul and Barnabas, and it was necessary that 
the cause of this extraordinary enthusiasm — the restoring 
the limb of a cripple — should be explained, which to any 
powers less than those under consideration would perhaps 
have been insurmountable, for this reason that painting, 
having only the choice of a single moment of time, if we 
take the instant before the performance of the miracle 
how can we show that it ever took place, if we adopt the 
instant after, how shall it appear that the man had ever 
been a cripple ? Raphael has chosen the latter ; and by 
throwing his now useless crutches on the ground, giving 
him the uncertain and swaggering attitude of a man ac- 




-THE DESCENT FROM THE CROSS. 

See pages 202, 276, 2S7. 



RUBENS. 



278 PAINTING, SCULPTURE, AND ARCHITECTURE. 

customed to support, and still in some degree doubtful 
of his newly acquired power, and by the uncommon 
eagerness with which he makes his address to his bene- 
factors, points out both his gratitude and the occasion of 
it ; and, still further, to do away with any remnant of am- 
biguity, he introduces a man of respectable appearance, 
who, lifting up a corner of the patient's drapery, surveys 
with unfeigned astonishment the newly and perfectly 
formed limb, in which he is also joined by others of the 
bystanders. Such a chain of circumstances, as Webb justly 
observes, equal to a narration in clearness, and infinitely 
superior in force, would have done honor to the inventor 
in the happiest era of painting in Greece." 







< . 

cc t^ 

I- oo 

CO w 



CHAPTER XV. 

FORMS OF SCULPTURE INTERPRETIVE OF THEIR OWN 
SIGNIFICANCE: THE FUNCTION OF EXPLANATIONS. 

Differences between the Subjects of Painting and Sculpture — Portraiture in 
Sculpture — Poetic Description of the Dying Gladiator — The Laocoon 
— Symbolic, Allegoric, Religious, Mythologic, and Historic Sculpture 
— Verbal Explanations as an Aid to Artistic Effect — Have the Same Re- 
lation to Painting and Sculpture as to Music — The Interest and Attrac- 
tiveness of Things Seen is Increased by our Knowledge with Reference 
to them — The Same Principle Applies to Things Depicted in Art. 

A LMOST every thing that was said in the last chapter 
with reference to painting applies also to sculpture. 
But there are certain differences between the two arts, 
which make necessary a few words with reference to the 
representation of thought and feeling in the latter. 
Sculpture seldom attains high rank except when it repro- 
duces the human form. Nor, even when it does this, are 
any effects used other than those possible to shape, the 
employment of imitative color being, at present, uni- 
versally prohibited. For this reason, as Flaxman says in 
his " Lectures upon Sculpture," " The gray solemn tint 
of stone, the beautifully semi-transparent purity of mar- 
ble, the golden splendor or corroding dark green of bronze," 
should cause the sculptor " to reject as incongruous 
all subjects the character of which have not some dignity 
and elevation. The awful simplicity of those forms whose 
eyes have neither color nor brilliancy, and whose limbs 

280 



SCULPTURE AS INTERPRETING ITSELF. 28 I 

have not the glow of circulation, strikes the first view of 
the beholder as of beings of a different order from himself. 
Angels, spiritual ministers, embodied virtues, departed 
worthies, the patriot, or general benefactor shining in the 
splendor of his deeds, or gloomy and consuming memo- 
rials of the great in former ages, — such subjects distinguish 
temples, churches, palaces, courts of justice, and the open 
squares of cities. At the same time that they symbolize 
their several purposes, they may be comprehended in 
three classes, — the sublime, heroic, and tender." Among 
the sublime, he would probably include those classed as 
belonging to the " grand " style of the Greeks, — as in 
Figs. 19, page 47, 28, page 62, 37, page 76, and 148, page 
223 ; among the heroic, he would probably include such 
statues as are in Figs. 1, page 20, 21, page 49; and among 
the tender such as are in Figs. 20, page 48, 38, page 77, 
and 149, page 224. 

Aside from being confined, as a rule, to the more dig- 
nified and elevated types of the human form, the subjects 
of sculpture do not differ essentially from those of paint- 
ing. First of all, as in the latter art, there is the sculpture 
of portraiture. Attention has been directed already, on 
page 266, to the statue of Nathan Hale (Fig. 1 59, page 267). 
Notice also the portrait statue of Titus (Fig. 165, page 282). 
Could any one, looking at it, doubt the character or the 
station of the man depicted ? We have noticed, also, on 
page 142, the significance indicated in the ideal statue in 
Fig. 38, page 77, as well as on page 1 58, that indicated in the 
statue in Fig. 95, page 157. Indeed, to say nothing of the 
whole discussion in chapters VII. to IX. inclusive, ample 
treatment of this phase of representation in sculpture will 
be found in almost every part of this book. Notice the 
pages referred to under Figs. 19, page 47; 20, page 48; 



252 PAINTING, SCULPTURE, AND ARCHITECTURE. 



37, page 76; 83, page 144; 149, page 224; and 148, page 223. 
An appeal to human sympathy has often been pointed 
out as characterizing the statue in the Capitol at Rome, 
called " The Dying Gladiator," though the best authority 
now considers it to be a " Dying Galatian," or " Gaul," 

the work of a superior 
school of art which 
flourished between 
150 and 200 B.C. at 
Pergamum, a Greek 
city of Asia Minor, 
which, about this 
time, was successful 
in wars against the 
Galatians. Of this 
statue, Jarvis, in his 
" Art Idea," says : 
" It is an incarnation 
of the spirit of the uni- 
versal brotherhood of 
men in their common 
heritage of suffering 
and death. A man 
dying by blood-drops 
from a stab. A simple 
and common subject; 
yet how beautiful and 
suggestive the treat- 
ment ! . . . Criticism is absorbed in sympathy, and 
the fear or pain of death in the spirit's retrospection of 
life and inquiring gaze into futurity. Behold a fellow 
being prematurely sent by a violent death to the mys- 
terious confines of eternity, and about to solve the com- 




FIQ. 165.-STATUE OF TITUS, IN THE LOUVRE. 
See page 281. 



284 PAINTING, SCULPTURE, AND ARCHITECTURE. 

mon problem of life, whose evils have been to him so 
prolific a heritage. God aid him ! " 

It may be interesting, also, to compare with the statue 
the thoughts and emotions suggested, by the supposition 
that it was a dying gladiator, to the poet Byron: 



I see before me the Gladiator lie ; 

He leans upon his hand — his manly brow 

Consents to death but conquers agony, 

And his drooped head sinks gradually low — 

And through his side, the last drops ebbing slow 

From the red gash, fall heavy, one by one, 

Like the first of a thunder-shower ; and now 

The arena swims around him — he is gone, 

Ere ceased the inhuman shout which hailed the wretch who won. 



He heard it ; but he heeded not — his eyes 
Were with his heart, and that was far away. 
He recked not of the life he lost, nor prize, 
But where his rude hut by the Danube lay, 
There were his young barbarians all at play, 
There was their Dacian mother — he their sire 
Butchered to make a Roman holiday. 

— Child e Harold. 



Could anything be more different than the representa- 
tion of stillness in the statue and of movement — the 
shifting of thought from one thing to another — in the 
poem? 

On page 223 it was said that many of the single statues 
of the Greeks, which we now possess, were originally 
members of groups. Some of these groups still exist en- 
tire. One of the most famous of them is the " Laocoon " 
(Fig. 21, page 49), the statue which suggested to the 
German critic Lessing the famous essay of the same 






SCULPTURE AS INTERPRETING ITSELE. 28$ 

name. This " Laocoon," according to the story, was a 
priest, whose sons were punished with him for a sin which 
he alone had committed. The writer quoted on page 282, 
embodying several of the salient characteristics suggested 
by Lessing, says of this statue : " There is in the father's 
silent appeal to heaven for his sons' escape from an in- 
exorable fate, and the pitiful look of the children directed 
to him whose sins are thus visited upon them, a moral 
beauty which overpowers the sense of physical agony. 
We perceive the awful fate impending, and are spared the 
absolute rack of flesh and blood. This the artist would 
not give. He does not permit Laocoon to cry aloud, 
though one can anticipate his convulsive sighs. Hence 
our feelings are moved to pity and admiration by his 
endurance, without being disturbed by vehement action, 
or the sense of the beautiful and grand being marred by 
the writhings of bodily anguish. As a whole, the concep- 
tion is simple and lofty . . . we feel that a great soul 
is expiring in awful torment, and teaching the world a 
great lesson, particularly if we view the group in its sym- 
bolical sense of ' sin ' or the throttler, which Max Miiller 
says is the original meaning, or root of its name. Spirit 
predominates. Idea and object are identical, and true art 
is attained . . . Much of the character of this group 
depends upon that subtle principle of repose, which dis- 
tinguishes the best antique art from most of modern 
work. Although violent and convulsive action is sug- 
gested by the nature of the scene, the artist has so skil- 
fully chosen the moment of execution, that we feel, above 
all else, its deep quiet . . . the victims see their 
doom and instinctively prepare to resist it, even though 
the utter inutility of resistance is manifest ; but the artist 
leaves us, in their joint struggle, a moral suggestion of 






286 PAINTING, SCULPTURE, AND ARCHITECTURE. 

hope, the angel sister of sin, to lighten the otherwise too 
painful impression upon the spectator; and the conscious- 
ness of all this is given by the skilful seizing of the exact 
instant in which the stillness of instinctive preparation 
precedes the last fearful effort of tortured nature to 
escape its doom." 

Again, there are statues, like paintings, which are de- 
signed to be symbolical, allegorical, or mythological. Of 
these, the " Resurrection," Fig. 82, page 143, furnishes 
an example. So, including more than one form, does Fig. 
22, page 50, a part of the front of the tomb of Maria Chris- 
tina, a daughter of Maria Theresa, and wife of Duke Albert 
of Saxe-Teschen. This tomb, which is in the church of 
the Augustines at Vienna, is one of Canova's masterpieces. 
In the part of it represented in Fig. 22, a lion and an 
angel are weeping and keeping guard on one side of the 
entrance of the vault, the lion being the symbol of the 
royal house, and the angel the symbol of the bereaved 
husband ; or, as perhaps might better be said, the lion as 
the king of beasts symbolizing the physical, and the angel 
as the messenger of heaven the spiritual ; and the two 
together the sense of loss as to both physical presence 
and spiritual communion. Once more, there is historical 
sculpture. Of course, the general character of this cannot 
differ greatly from that of historical painting. It is 
evident that a composition like that in Fig. 23, page 51, 
or Fig. 155, page 247, would be subject to exactly the 
same laws as if it were a painting. 

Thus far, an answer has been given to only the first 
question asked on page 254, to wit, whether it is possible 
for all appearances represented in painting and sculpture 
to be made significant in themselves, i. e., aside from the 
aid afforded by verbal explanations. But what has been 



THE FUNCTION OF EXPLANATIONS. 2%J 

said has suggested also the appropriate answer to the 
second question, to wit, whether all explanations depend- 
ing upon acquaintance with the literature of a subject, are 
to be denied legitimate influence in securing the aesthetic 
effect. The answer is, that they are not. For this the 
following reason could be given, even if there were no 
other. An art-product appeals to a man as distinguished 
from an animal. If so, the appeal must be made to that 
which distinguishes him from the animal. This, of course, 
is his intellect, together with the character and amount of 
intelligence ascribable to it. But if this be so, an increase 
of intelligence must increase his capacity for recognizing 
the appeal of art. As applied to a particular art-product, 
an increase of his intelligence with reference to either its 
form or subject, must increase his capacity for enjoying 
it. Nor need it make any essential difference whether 
this intelligence be the result of his general information, 
or of special information with reference to the object 
immediately before him, such as he can derive from a 
guide book. A man with a knowledge of history, how- 
ever derived, will certainly take more interest in a paint- 
ing like Raphael's "School of Athens" (Fig. 156, page 
249), or Gerome's " Pollice Verso" (Fig. 8, page 31), 
than will one ignorant of history ; and a student of the 
Bible will take more interest than will one ignorant of it 
in a painting like "The Death of Ananias," Fig. 39, page 
79 ; " The Woman taken in Adultery," Fig. 80, page 
J 39; " Judas, Peter, and John," Fig. 92, page 150; "The 
Descent from the Cross," Fig. 163, page 277; or "The 
Sacrifice at Lystra," Fig. 164, page 279. 

The same may be said of explanations accompanying 
a painting or a statue as was said at the end of Chapter 
VII. of " Music as a Representative Art " of explanations 



283 PAINTING, SCULPTURE, AND ARCHITECTURE. 

printed on a musical programme. It was there pointed 
out that, according to the theory advanced in Chapters 
X. to XV. of " Art in Theory," especially on page 160, 
the degree of beauty is often increased in the degree in 
which the number of effects entering into its generally 
complex nature is increased. This is true even though 
some of these effects, as in the case of forms conjured 
before the imagination by a verbal description, may 
come from a source which, considered in itself, is not 
aesthetic. It must not be overlooked, however, that all 
beauty whatever is a characteristic of form ; and that 
intellectual effects, like these explanations, to have an 
aesthetic influence, must always be presented to apprehen- 
sion in connection with an external form with which they 
can be clearly associated. For this reason, though they 
may add to the aesthetic interest, where it already exists, 
they cannot, of themselves, make up for a lack of it. To 
a work of art an explanation is much what canes are to 
walking. Well used, they may increase the gracefulness 
of impression conveyed by a man's gait. But this cannot 
be graceful at all, unless he is able to walk without them. 
So a picture cannot be all that a work of art should be, 
unless, without one's knowing what the explanation is 
designed to impart, the drawing and coloring can, in some 
degree, at least, attract and satisfy aesthetic interest. An 
explanation intended to be used as a crutch instead of a 
cane, cannot be too strongly condemned. But there is 
no greater folly than to deny that the knowledge that we 
may have, or that we may get, with reference to the subject 
of a picture, enlarging, as this must do, its associations 
and suggestions, can add immensely to our distinctively 
aesthetic enjoyment. In what consists the worth of art 
except in the effects that it arouses in the emotions 



THE FUNCTION OF EXPLANATIONS. 2 £9 

and, through them, conjures in the imagination? But 
by what is the reach of imagination determined, except 
by the amount of information present in the mind with 
reference to that by which the emotions have been in- 
fluenced ? 

When we see a party of children, we may be interested 
in them on account of the symmetrical outlines of their 
forms, or of the glow of health in their faces. But there 
are other considerations that may increase our interest. 
One is the fact that we see them doing something which 
their actions indicate. Another is that they are ex- 
pressing something which their countenances indicate ; 
and, still another, that they are children whom we know 
and love. Nor is it true that any of these latter con- 
siderations, which increase our interest, necessarily inter- 
fere with the degree of interest excited in us by their 
grace or beauty of form. 

Why should one deny that similar principles apply to 
the figures seen in pictures? Yet practically every art- 
critic denies this who fails to recognize that which may 
be added to them by increasing their representation of sig- 
nificance. Why will a man, sensible in other regards, 
admire so blindly painters who, however great, have not 
the breadth to include among their merits this form of 
excellence? Why will he follow them when leading him 
in an opposite direction, even to the extent of turning his 
back completely upon qualities of the importance of which 
the slightest thought ought to convince him ? Or how 
can he complain if another, merely imitating in principle 
his own example, turn in the opposite direction even to 
the extent of altogether ignoring technique ? Art in- 
volves the representation not merely of significance nor 
merely of form ; and those who wish to further its interests 



290 PAINTING, SCULPTURE, AND ARCHITECTURE. 

cannot do so by directing the energies of the artist ex- 
clusively to either. The captain of a yawl tossed by 
ocean waves might as well urge every one on board of it 
to rush to one side of it or to the other, and expect to 
reach his landing without capsizing. 



CHAPTER XVI. 

REPRESENTATION OF MATERIAL APPEARANCES IN 
PAINTING AND SCULPTURE. 

Form Comes to be Developed for its own Sake — To Appreciate Art, we 
should Know the Technical Aims of the Artist — Books on the Subject — 
Elements of Correct Technique — Lineal Representation of Light and 
Shade — Of Shape and Texture — Of Distance and Perspective — " Clas- 
sic " and "Romantic" Lines — Distinctness and Indistinctness of Line 
— Laws of Perspective — Lineal Representation of Life and Movement 
— Reason for Apparent Lack of Accuracy — Same Principles Apply to 
Sculpture — Elements of Correct Coloring — Ignorance of Early Colorists 
— Value — Origin of the Term — Color — Representation of Light and 
Shade — Of Shape and Texture — Of Distance or Aerial Perspective — 
Of Life and Movement — Conclusion. 

\\ 7HENEVER one uses a form either of sound or of 
sight in order through it to express thought or 
feeling, a natural tendency of mind causes him after a 
little to become interested in the form and to develop its 
possibilities for its own sake. As shown in Chapter V. of 
"Art in Theory," it is this tendency that leads to all art ; 
and the fact furnishes a degree of justification, though not 
to the extent that is sometimes urged, for the maxim that 
enjoins interest in " art for art's sake," even if by art, in 
this sense, be meant that merely which has to do with 
the representation of form. 

The truth of this statement is especially easy to recog- 
nize as applied to painting and sculpture, partly because 

291 



20,2 PAINTING, SCULPTURE* AND ARCHITECTURE. 

in them it is so evidently essential to have the forms 
exactly imitative of those of nature, and partly because, 
before the imitation necessitated can be successful, it so 
evidently requires careful and scientific study. These 
considerations do not justify a lack of interest in the sig- 
nificance which a form may be made to express ; but they 
do necessitate, on the part of all who wish to understand 
the subject, some knowledge, if not of a painter's tech- 
nique, at least of his technical aims. Only in the degree 
in which men have this knowledge, can they estimate a 
painting from an artist's point of view, or have a right to 
an opinion concerning its workmanship. Fortunately, 
this very apparent fact has been fully recognized. Not to 
speak of foreign works on the subject, like Charles Blanc's 
" Grammar of Painting and Engraving," able books have 
been produced in our own country, exactly fitted to supply 
the information needed particularly by ourselves. Chief 
among them are Dr. John C. Van Dyke's " How to Judge 
of a Picture " and "Art for Art's Sake." It is difficult to 
conceive how any one could make a more thorough and 
discriminating study of painting from the view-point of 
the leading modern artists — 'though, of course, some of 
them would differ from him — than has been done by this 
author ; and certainly no one has ever succeeded in giving 
so clear and on the whole so absolutely trustworthy an 
expression to the results of such study. Mr. George W. 
Sheldon, too, has thrown an immense amount of light on 
the same subject in his exceedingly interesting and im- 
portant series of what might be termed " edited inter- 
views " with painters, published in his volumes entitled 
"American Painters," " Hours with Art and Artists," and 
" Recent Ideals in American Art." Indeed, to attempt 
here anything intended in any sense to be a substitute for 



REPRESENTA TION OF MA TERIAL APPEARANCES. 293 



be superfluous. But as our general 



these works would 
plan renders some 
reference to the 
subject essential, 
it is hoped that, by 
way of arrange- 
ment or comment, 
if of nothing else, 
even those familiar 
with the general 
principles involved 
may not find this 
chapter wholly un- 
suggestive. 

As has been no- 
ticed, there are 
many characteris- 
tics of visible form. 
The more import- 
ant of these, by 
grouping together 
in four cases two 
factors that are 
clearly allied, may 
be considered un- 
der the heads of 
light and shade, 
shape and texture, 
distance and per- 
spective, and life 
a 11 d movement. 
These four doubled re- 
quirements of painting, and, in some cases, of sculpture, 




FIG. 167.— TREATMENT OF DESIGN IN RELIEF. 

W. CRANE. 

See pages 44, 46, 294, 307. 



294 PAINTING, SCULPTURE, AND ARCHITECTURE. 

we shall consider as influencing first the use of lines, as 
in drawing or carving ; and, second, the use of color. 

With reference to light and shade as influencing the use 
of lines, it is chiefly important to notice that, in very 
bright light objects are more distinct than in dim light, 
first, because we see them more clearly ; and second, 
because we see them in contrast to shadows which are 
immediately beside or behind them ; and in the brightest 
light, as in brilliant sunshine, the shadows are always com- 
paratively the darkest. Notice the two illustrations at 
the right of Fig. 168, page 297. Of course the representa- 
tion, whether by pencil or brush, of outlines supposed to 
be illuminated by different degrees of light, must corre- 
spond to these facts. 

Closely connected with the representation of light and 
shade as produced by drawing, is that of shape and texture. 
It is chiefly through the play upon surfaces of the former 
two that we are able to tell whether an object as a whole 
is flat or round, or whether its surface is rough or smooth. 
Notice these facts as exemplified in the drawings of 
objects in Fig. 167, page 293 ; also in Fig. 16, page 41. 

The third effects to be represented are distance and 
perspective. To begin with, remote objects are always 
in light that is comparatively dim ; and, for this reason 
alone, it follows from what has been said already that 
their outlines are indistinct (see Fig. 168, page 297). But 
it took the world many years to recognize this. Some 
artists apparently have not recognized it yet. There is 
still a controversy, the results of which can be seen in 
every large gallery of modern paintings between the 
advocates of what is termed the " classic " or " academic " 
line, and the " romantic," "picturesque," or "naturalis- 
tic." The former is a firm, clear line such as appears in 



REPRESENTATION OF MATERIAL APPEARANCES. 2Q$ 

the paintings of Gerome (Fig. 8, page 31), Bougereau, 
and Cabanel. The other is a misty, indistinct line, such 
as appears in the works of Millet and Corot. Notice 
especially the hind leg of the man in Fig. 169, page 299. 
The former line is necessarily the primitive one, the first 
impulse of any draftsman being to separate an object 
distinctly from other objects. As we should expect, 
therefore, this kind of line characterizes most of the pic- 
tures that have come to us from the ancients, as well as 
the rude sketches of the school-boys of our own time. 
But in the drawings of the great masters, say Titian, Cor- 
reggio, and Rembrandt, there is a constant tendency in 
the other direction. Only in modern times, however, 
have the two tendencies developed into antagonistic 
schools, — the extreme advocates of the one, though they 
are not all called Pre-Raphaelites, showing a tendency, 
nevertheless, to claim, as the modern painters who 
founded this school were accused of doing (see Fig. 151, 
page 229), that in a painting every leaf on a tree, every 
spear in a grass-plot, every hair on a head, should be dis- 
tinctly and separately outlined ; and the advocates of the 
other school showing a tendency to claim that irt no case 
should any of these be so outlined, partly because they 
are not so perceived in nature, and partly because, even 
if so perceived, they should not be so delineated in art, 
the object of which is to represent not specific, but gen- 
eral effects (see Fig. 152, page 231 ; also 169, page 299). 
It seems as if, in this case, as usual, the extremists on 
both sides somewhat exaggerate the partial truth that 
they are trying to emphasize. Objects in very bright 
light and near at hand can be, and, if one is to repre- 
sent nature faithfully, should be delineated with well 
defined outlines. On the contrary, objects that are in 



2g6 PAINTING, SCULPTURE, AND ARCHITECTURE. 

dim light, as in the twilight landscapes of Corot, or ob- 
jects which are remote from the observer, can be and 
should be delineated with indistinct outlines. Notice 
these conditions as indicated in Fig. 168, page 297, taken 
from " The Principles and Methods of Art-Education," 
of Principal John Ward Stimson. It is a fact that, a few 
hundred feet away, we recognize men, horses, and sheep 
less by distinguishing accurately their outlines than by 
observing their relative shapes, sizes, and colors ; and that, 
at the same distance, the leaves of trees blend in a general 
mass of foliage. But this is no reason why the same ob- 
jects, if represented as near at hand, or, possibly, as seen 
through an eye-glass, should not be delineated with out- 
lines of an opposite character. 

To neglect to give them these is to base art-work upon 
theory rather than observation, as well as to suggest that 
the advocate of the " classic " line speaks the truth when 
he asserts that his opponents decry distinctness chiefly 
because they do not care to give distinct emphasis to the 
fact that they themselves are unskilful draftsmen. Cer- 
tainly, no one can doubt that an age of the paintings of 
impressionists, in which mere patches of color would be 
considered all that was requisite in order to enable the 
imagination to construct its own contours for objects, 
would be an age in which drawing would become a lost 
art. Here, as elsewhere, the truth seems to lie between 
the extremes. And does not the salvation of art as of 
life depend upon its fidelity to truth ? 

But there is another effect which distance has upon the 
line. This appears in connection with what are called 
" the laws of perspective/' If we look down a long 
street, the roadway or sidewalks of which are of uniform 
width, and the buildings along which are of uniform 




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298 PAINTING, SCULPTURE, AND ARCHITECTURE. 

height, we find all the lines of sidewalks, curbstones, base- 
ments, and roofs gradually converging in the extreme 
distance. In case two parallel lines are as near together 
as the two tracks of a railway, they may seem actually to 
meet in the distance. Notice the upper illustration at the 
left of Fig. 168, page 297. As the appearance indicated 
is universal in nature, of course art, in representing nature, 
must represent it also. Yet for centuries the proper 
method of doing this was not understood. Now it is 
known that if, from an imaginary vanishing point on 
which the eye, in gazing toward the back of a picture, is 
supposed to be fixed, radiating lines be drawn to the top 
and bottom and sides of a form represented in the fore- 
ground, these lines between the form and the vanishing 
point will determine the top and bottom and sides of other 
figures, which in the degree in which every dimension 
in them is made smaller than the form in the foreground, 
will appear to be, not less in actual size, but at a greater 
distance from the spectator. Notice the left upper illus- 
tration in Fig. 168, page 297. These laws of perspec- 
tive are now so well known that their more simple effects 
are easy to produce. But some of them are exceedingly 
difficult. Take cases of foreshortening, for instance, like 
the representations painted by Michael Angelo on the 
ceiling of the Sistine Chapel of figures in all possible posi- 
tions, standing, sitting, lying, and ascending in clouds, — 
could any one, unless very skilful as a draftsman, produce 
with success such effects? 

But from this linear representation of light and distance, 
let us now pass on to that of life and movement. The 
spokes of a wheel in a wagon, when standing still, have 
one appearance. What is their appearance when the 
wagon is under way ? What is the appearance of a torch 




299 FIG. 169.— LEAVING FOR WORK. J. F. MILLET. 

See pages 295, 300, 



300 PAINTING, SCULPTURE, AND ARCHITECTURE. 

when waved through the air, or of the legs of a man or a 
horse when racing ? What is the appearance of the leaves of 
trees or the waves of lakes when swayed by a tempest ? An 
attempt to answer these questions will convince us of the 
impossibility of using the classic line in all cases, even when 
the object is in clear light and near at hand. Flying spokes 
of wheels, whirling torches, moving legs, tossing waves 
and foliage (see Fig. 152, page 231), are seldom seen with 
distinct outlines. To have these, an object should remain 
a certain length of time in one place. If it do not, all the 
outlines are blurred and run into one another, or into the 
atmosphere. For this reason, a rolling wheel is repre- 
sented not as a compound of spokes, but as a sparkling 
disk, a waving torch not as a point of light, but as a curve, 
and a moving form not as a stationary one, but dispro- 
portionately extended. Notice the hind leg of the man 
in Fig. 169, page 299. It is evidently lengthened as it is, 
in order to represent two different positions which the 
eye is obliged to take in at one glance. Whether the at- 
tempted effect is a success in this particular case may be 
doubted. But effects analogous to it are often greatly 
praised. " Let us look at these Arab horsemen of Fro- 
mentin," says Van Dyke in his " How to Judge of a 
Picture/' " The horse of this falcon flier going at full 
speed has been criticised, because, forsooth, the body is 
too long and the hindquarters are stretched out behind 
instead of being compactly knit together. . . . But 
stand back and see the effect of the whole. Is not the 
motion, the life, the fire, the dash superb ? Could any- 
thing give us a better impression of the swiftness of 
flight." 

The desire to convey this impression of movement with 
its associated ideas of life and force largely accounts for 



REPRESENTATION- OF MATERIAL APPEARANCES. 



301 



the apparent lack of accuracy, and sometimes unmistak- 
able exaggeration in the works of such an artist as Michael 
Angelo (see Fig. 170, page 301), as well as for this and also 
for what seems to be a lack of distinctness in the paint- 




1 win n 111 rw 

FIQ. 170.-TOMB OF QIULIANO DE< MEDICI WITH FIGURES OF DAY AND NIQHT. ANGELO. 
See pages 50, 301, 302. 

ings of Blake, Millet, Diaz, Corot, and Daubigny. As 
Van Dyke says: " It is the attempt of every true artist to 
paint not reality, but the appearance of reality." 

All that has been said of drawing in painting applies to 
carving in sculpture. The method of finishing surfaces 



3<D2 PAINTING, SCULPTURE, AND ARCHITECTURE. 

in marble or bronze, whether represented in full or in par- 
tial relief, is not determined solely by the outlines of the 
form imitated, but by the appearance that it presents, 
as affected by the play of light and shade upon its surfaces 
and the suggestions of shape, texture, perspective, life, or 
movement necessarily connected with one rather than with 
another mode of treatment. It would be difficult to find 
any human forms with muscles actually resembling those 
in the figures in Michael Angelo's " Tombs of the Medici," 
at Florence (Fig. 170, page 301). Yet the influence of 
light and shade upon the carving, when viewed from a 
distance, makes all seem wonderfully real. The perspec- 
tives represented in Fig. 23, page 51, or in Fig. 155, page 
247, suggest shape and distance as faithfully as if depicted 
on canvas ; and the slightly elongated or contracted pro- 
portions in Barye's bronzes of men and animals give 
effects of life and movement equal to any attempted in 
painting. 

The requirements of the effects just mentioned, which 
make difficult the representation of objects by means of 
drawing, have a corresponding influence upon the repre- 
sentation of the colors of nature. For centuries, painters 
have been trying to imitate these. But how seldom have 
they been in every regard successful ? The earlier artists, 
even in comparatively modern times, did not seem to see 
exactly what these colors were. The blue of the sky and 
the bloom of the cheek were painted in hues altogether 
too deep and full. Sparkling effects like those glanced 
from water were scarcely attempted. Foliage on distant 
mountains was represented by an impossible green ; and 
as for that near at hand, it seems to have remained for 
the discoveries of physics to suggest to painters how fre- 
quently it can be helped by slight introductions among its 
shadows of purple or red. 



REPRESENTATION OR MATERIAL APPEARANCES. 303 

Nor did the earlier painters seem to recognize the varie- 
ties in these colors, — the infinite numbers of tints and 
shades found in them when exposed to more or less of 
sunlight. They could never represent aright the folds of 
drapery, the leaves of trees, nor even the plain ceiling of 
a room where it was necessary to reproduce effects of illu- 
mination or reflection. Much less could they represent 
the larger play of light and shade, air luminous with sun- 
shine or mellow in the moonlight. What hues could pic- 
ture the effects of firelight or of shadows cast by certain 
colors or received on certain colors? Only many experi- 
ments could settle these questions ; only science could set- 
tle them beyond dispute. The manner in which it has done 
this will be examined in another volume of this series. 
But a few paragraphs with reference to the subject will 
not be out of place here. 

In order to express the effect upon colors of most of 
the influences that we are to consider, painters use the 
word value. The same color, for instance, is said to have 
a different value in sunshine, in shadow, on the surface of 
a square, and of a sphere, in a texture of silk and of vel- 
vet, when near us or when seen distinctly in a clear at- 
mosphere, when remote from us or when seen indistinctly 
in a dim atmosphere, or when considered in its relations 
to movement. The artist who preserves the proper values 
of color is the one who, in all these cases, represents it as 
in the circumstances it appears in nature. 

The use of the term undoubtedly grew out of the appli- 
cation to colors of other terms like rich, full, deep, thin, 
weak. It would be natural to say that anything which 
could be more rich or full than another could differ from 
it in value. All such terms, however, when once used, 
come soon to have technical meanings. The meaning 
now attached to this term is indicative of the degree of light 



304 PAINTING, SCULPTURE, AND ARCHITECTURE. 

that is in a color. In the foreground of a picture, where 
there is the most light rendering it distinct, the color is 
said to have more value than the same when in the back- 
ground. The term is also applied to colorless drawings, 
but, in this case, a line that is in the foreground, where 
there is the most light rendering it distinct, is, unlike a 
color, darker rather than brighter. So we have the ap- 
parent anomaly of assigning the most value to bright 
colors, but to dark lines (see Fig. 169, page 297). A score 
or more of years ago the term was used to indicate differ- 
ences between different hues ; yellow, for instance, as con- 
taining more light, being said to have more value than 
green containing less light. At present, however, the 
word is mainly used to indicate relations between differ- 
ent tints or shades of the same hue, tint being a term in- 
dicative of what contains more light, and shade a term 
indicative of what contains less light than the hue itself 
does when it is what is termed full. As illustrating the 
very different effects produced upon the same color by 
very slight changes in degrees of light and shade, excel- 
lent examples are afforded in the Metropolitan Museum 
of New York. For instance, in the picture entitled 
" Gossip," by Carl Marr, dresses, a table-cloth, a window 
curtain, and many other articles placed side by side are 
all white. In another picture, entitled "A Spanish Lady," 
by Fortuny, the dress, laces, ribbons, and ornaments of 
jet are all black; and in still another, entitled " Monks in 
the Oratory," by F. M. Granet, the robes, seats, wainscot- 
ing, and other objects are all brown. 

As was done in the case of drawing, let us consider 
here, first, the representation of light and shade. The 
very earliest paintings of which we know — the Egyptian 
— contained no shadows whatever. . The early Italians 



REPRESENTA TION OF MA TERIAL APPEARANCES. 30$ 

thought that they could depict the effects of light upon 
a fabric of any color by white, and of shade upon the 
same color by black. Of course, their method did not 
involve any study of what is now termed values. But 
with the development of the possibilities of pigments by 
Leonardo, Titian, Correggio, Rembrandt, and their re- 
spective followers, the necessity of this study became 
recognized. In modern times it has been still further 
emphasized by the employment of the term itself, and in 
the teaching of what is meant by it in the schools. 

The effects of light and shade upon any scene in nature 
may be said to be general and particular. . That which is 
general is produced upon a scene or an object in it, as a 
whole, by some illumining agent, like the sun, the moon, 
a fire, or a candle. That which is special is produced by 
the different positions relatively to one another of differ- 
ent parts of the whole. A tree or a man, for instance, if 
depicted in sunshine, would each cast a shadow, and each 
with its shadow would illustrate the effects of general 
light and shade. But besides this, every leaf or limb of 
the tree is illumined with a light peculiar to itself, and 
casts its shadow on some other leaf or limb ; and every 
feature in the countenance and every fold in the clothing 
of a man is either in extreme brightness, like the tip of 
his chin or nose, or in shadow, like a dimple of his chin or 
one side of his nose. In some of these cases, as for in- 
stance, where sparkling effects are necessary, light can be 
properly indicated by white, and shade, as where surround- 
ing colors are very dull, by black ; in others, as where the 
light falls strongly on brilliant colors, the shadows must 
contain hues that complement these ; but in many cases, 
especially where the light is not intense, it is mainly neces- 
sary to change the values of the same hues making them 



306 PAINTING, SCULPTURE, AND ARCHITECTURE. 

brighter in more light and darker in less. To preserve 
the proper relations and proportions of coloring, in each 
case, is, of course, extremely difficult, and necessitates very 
careful observations of the conditions of nature. The 
main principle is that the brighter the illumining light, 
the greater are the contrasts both of shade and hue between 
the bright and dark parts and the more sharply defined 
are the lines of demarkation between them (see Fig. 168, 
page 297). Besides this, in any given scene, the influence 
of the light is such that, to be properly represented, the 
values need to be slightly and gradually changed at almost 
every point. The difference in a painting between the 
appearance of mere paint and the appearance of reality is 
largely due to these slight variations in values, producing, 
wherever are depicted thick foliage or folds of drapery, 
those subtle suggestions of the play of light and shade in 
which nature always abounds. Other facts that should 
be considered in connection with light and shade, need 
not detain us here. Some have reference to conveying, 
through methods of composition, an impression of unity. 
These are treated in " The Genesis of Art-Forms," under 
the various heads of Principality, Central-Point, Massing, 
and Gradation. Others have reference to color-harmony, 
and these, as well as the former, will be treated in a vol- 
ume to be entitled " Proportion and Color in Painting, 
Sculpture, and Architecture." 

As in the case of drawing, the representation of shape 
and texture is closely related to that of light through the 
use of color. Shape is indicated mainly in connection 
with general, and texture with special, light and shade. It 
is the narrow or broad lines or circles of intensely bright 
and sometimes white color which, together with darker 
colors on either side or surrounding them, enable us to 



REPRESENTATION OF MATERIAL APPEARANCES. 30? 

perceive that an object in which they appear is intended 
to seem to have an edged or a rounded or circular shape, 
while similar characteristics, differently and more minutely 
distributed, enable us to recognize that the texture is in- 
tended to seem like that of silk, velvet, wool, wood, stone, 
soil, water, or clouds. We can recognize these facts, even 
from the corresponding effect as produced by the use of 
the pencil in Figs. 16, page 41, and 167, page 293. The 
necessity of representing shape in painting was recognized 
very early in the development of the art, but there were 
no great painters of texture before those of the Nether- 
lands, like Dou, Hals, Denner, Terborch, and Jan Steen. 
In modern times there are many who excel in producing 
these effects, noticeably Meissonier, Willems, Breton, 
Fortuny, and Alma Tadema, as well as, in landscape, Rous- 
seau and Troyon. In the paintings of all of these, silks, 
satins, velvets, rugs, leathers, furs, feathers, marbles, moss, 
sod, tree-trunks, rocks, water, are evidently treated as they 
are with a primary design, not in all cases equally suc- 
cessful, to have every detail represent exactly what they 
purport to be. 

The use of values in the representation of distance, or 
aerial perspective, is perhaps more important than in the 
representation of texture. The atmosphere is filled with 
particles that cause it to act like a vail obscuring the 
colors in the distance by depriving them of a part of their 
light. This, for reasons to be explained in " Proportion 
and Color in Painting, Sculpture, and Architecture," pro- 
duces two effects. It causes the colors as distances 
increase to become duller and, in the remote distance, to 
become changed in hue. In an atmosphere pervaded 
throughout by the same general degree of light, yellow, 
which contains the most light of any of the colors, passes 



308 PAINTING, SCULPTURE, AND ARCHITECTURE. 

into darker yellow and orange ; orange into red-orange 
and orange-brown ; red into dark red and brown ; yellow- 
green, like that in the near foliage in bright sunshine, into 
green, then into dark green, and in the extreme distance 
into blue and purple, or, in the absence of sunshine, into 
gray ; near colors too of dark green and blue pass through 
purple into gray. The local shadows cast by a hill, tree, 
or leaves in the greater brightness near at hand are darker 
than the shadows at a distance (see Fig. 168, page 297). 
The general shadows cast by the clouds do not necessarily 
have this effect. Often in fact, by obscuring the sunlight 
near at hand and leaving it clear in the distance, in other 
words by changing the degrees of light in different parts 
of a landscape, they change the distribution of colors that 
have been mentioned. In an ocean view, for instance, 
light green is sometimes seen in the distance and deep 
blue near at hand. But as a rule the colors in aerial per- 
spective will appear as has been stated. In regiments of 
soldiers marching toward us, all clad in scarlet, that color 
seems brightest in the front rank, slightly less bright in 
the second, and gradually decreases in brightness till in 
the remotest distance it may seem nearly brown. Even in 
the same room books of the same color seem to differ, if 
one be a foot farther from us than the other, provided 
always, of course, that they are illumined by the same 
degree of light. All these statements can be seen illus- 
trated, by inspecting the works of artists like Rousseau, 
Daubigny, Millet, Troy on, or Jacque of the Fontainebleau- 
Barbicon school, the oriental pictures of Decamps or 
Fromentin, or the landscapes or interiors of more modern 
painters like Inness or Chase of our own country, Israels 
of Holland, or Lerolle of France. Those who have an 
opportunity to do so will be interested in noticing the 



KEPRESENTA TION OE MA TEK1AL APPEARANCES. 309 

effects of distance and space as produced by the latter, 
in the " Organ Recital," which is in the Metropolitan Art 
Museum in New York. 

Life and movement are also represented by the use of 
pigments. The surfaces of moving objects are all the 
while passing either into the shade or out of it, or farther 
from us or nearer us, as the case may be. This fact 
necessarily involves changing their colors and causing 
them to run or blur together. Not only so, but in the 
degree in which their surfaces are capable of reflecting 
the light, it produces those contrasts between sparkling 
and dark effects with which we are all familiar in the 
appearance of waves and revolving wheels, when glancing 
back the sunshine. Even in objects where there is little 
movement, as in ordinary sod and tree-trunks, there is an 
irregularity of surface and of substance that produces 
graded, striped, and checkered effects, all of them 
apparently so inseparably connected with life, that the 
reproduction of them by the use of pigments is essential 
if a picture is to seem life-like. In fact, here as else- 
where, we find that the difference between the suggestion 
of the reality of nature and the suggestion of mere brush- 
work in a picture is owing mainly to the fact that in the 
former the true values of the colors have in all cases been 
preserved. 

But enough has been said here for our present purpose. 
There are other considerations in connection with this 
subject that need to be understood even for the recogni- 
tion of successful imitation, such as the influence of re- 
flection or of shadows cast by or on certain colors in 
different degrees and kinds of light, and the way in which 
two colors having one effect in nature weaken or 
strengthen one another when brought together in the 



3IO PAINTING, SCULPTURE, AND ARCHITECTURE. 

closer proximity necessitated by a picture. But none of 
these facts could be treated satisfactorily without a more 
extended explanation of the scientific principles involved 
than would be appropriate in a place where we are con- 
sidering color not as color but as a means of representa- 
tion. For this reason, a discussion of them must be 
postponed to that volume of this series of essays entitled 
" Proportion and Color in Painting, Sculpture, and Archi- 
tecture." 



CHAPTER XVII. 

THE DEVELOPMENT OF REPRESENTATION IN 
ARCHITECTURE. 

Modes of Expression in Architecture and Music as Contrasted with Paint- 
ing, Sculpture, and Poetry — The Germs of Music and Architecture Ante- 
date those of the Other Arts, but are Artistically Developed Later — 
Music Develops through Poetry, and Architecture is Hut-Building 
Made Picturesque and Statuesque — Early Attempts to Make Useful 
Buildings Ornamental — Examples — Influence of the Play-Impulse 
upon All Forms of Construction — Illustration of its Effects upon a 
House— These Effects Represent both Mental and Material Conditions 
— Facts Evincing this — Such Effects as Enhancing the Interest. 

DEFORE concluding the task undertaken in this vol- 
ume, the effects of appearances, which were studied 
in detail in Chapters II. to XI. inclusive, must be con- 
sidered as combined together in the products of architec- 
ture. As an aid to this end, let us first recall what 
was said in Chapter II. of the differences between the 
modes of expression developed in this art and in painting 
and sculpture. In these latter, as also in poetry, the mode 
was said to be responsive or unsustained, which terms 
were explained by directing attention to the fact that 
their forms are occasioned by an endeavor to respond 
to outside interruption, or at least emergency ; as is ex- 
emplified when a cat moves about and mews ; or when a 
bird flits from branch to branch and chirps ; or when a 
man, gazing from one to another of his surroundings, re- 

311 



312 PAINTING, SCULPTURE, AND ARCHITECTURE. 

fers frequently in language or action to what he hears or 
sees. If he do so by word, we have that which de- 
velops into poetry, if by deed, that which develops into 
painting or sculpture. But aside from this mode of ex- 
pression, it was pointed out that there is another, which 
may be termed subjective or sustained. In accordance 
with this, the cat keeps quiet and purrs, the bird stays on 
one branch and sings, and the man works and hums to 
himself, developing a plan or melody from some single 
outside suggestion without consciousness of interruption ; 
or, at least, of anything like constant interruption, in 
which other things are suggested. It was said that this 
subjective or sustained mood is at the basis of represen- 
tation in architecture and music ; also that because the 
mood is suggestive rather than responsive, there is less 
necessity in these arts than in painting, sculpture, and 
poetry for expressing thought and emotion in such ways 
as to communicate definite information to others ; and 
because the method of expression is sustained, there is 
less consciousness of external surroundings, and therefore, 
less tendency to describe and imitate their appearances. 
The musician constructs an entire symphony from a single 
significant series of tones, and the architect constructs an 
entire building from a significant series of outlines. At 
the same time, there is, in both arts, an occasional return 
to nature for the purpose of incorporating, if not imitat- 
ing, in the product some new expression of significance. 
But the fact that they are both developed from this sus- 
tained and subjective method of giving expression to a 
first suggestion, makes such a return to nature much less 
frequent in them than in the other arts. 

One more point of similarity between music and archi- 
tecture ought, perhaps, to be mentioned. It is this, that 



REPRESENTATION IN ARCHITECTURE. 3 I 3 

while, as among very young children, for instance, the in- 
articulated tones that develop into music antedate the 
articulated words that develop into poetry, the artistic 
forms of music, as in melody and harmony, are developed 
much later than those of poetry. In the same way, too, 
while the building of huts that develops into architecture 
antedates the drawing, coloring, and carving that develop 
into painting and sculpture, the artistic forms of architec- 
ture, as in ornamental columns, pediments, and spires, are 
developed later than painting and sculpture of, at least, 
sufficient excellence to merit recognition. Of course, the 
human being is obliged at a very early stage in his his- 
tory to provide means of shelter. But he is not influ- 
enced to construct that which he erects in such a way as 
to give expression to his thoughts and emotions, which is 
essential for an artistic motive, as early as he is influenced 
to draw pictures for the same purpose. A boy, or a boy- 
like savage, using a pencil or knife, will enjoy expressing 
his thoughts and emotions byway of imitation for its own 
sake, long before he will enjoy doing the same for the 
sake of ornamenting what would be just as useful without 
ornamentation. In the former case, his mind begins by 
being at play ; in the latter, by being at work ; and his 
first desire always is to be rid of work. 

The truth seems to be that the tendency to produce 
particulate sounds, and to construct rude means of shel- 
ter, have to wait for their artistic development until after 
men, through the consciously intellectual use of words 
or pictures, drawn or carved, have acquired that distinc- 
tively intellectual sense which is called artistic. As shown 
in " Music as a Representative Art," music is an adapta- 
tion of the intonations of voice which necessarily accom- 
pany words, but with the words not necessarily present. 



3 14 PAINTING, SCULPTURE, AND ARCHITECTURE. 

So architecture can be said to be an adaptation of the 
arrangements of appearances which necessarily accompany 
pictures or statues, but with the pictures or statues not 
necessarily present. That is to say, just as music is suc- 
cessful in the degree in which it fulfils the principles 
underlying the uses of words in poetry, though these 
words are absent, so architecture is successful in the 
degree in which it fulfils the principles underlying the 
use of appearances in paintings and statues, though these 
appearances are absent. An architect in our own times 
first makes a drawing of his building. The same man, 
before the days of pencils and paper, might not have 
made an external drawing. But he would have made one 
in imagination ; and this would have indicated the influ- 
ence upon his mind of a picturesque or statuesque con- 
ception. But how could he have had this, except as he 
had had experience of some previously existing picture or 
statue ? 

As already intimated, we cannot imagine a time when 
human beings did not use their hands in order to con- 
struct what would enhance their comfort and enjoyment. 
They would naturally do this almost as early as they 
would articulate sounds ; and the most important of their 
labors of this kind would be directed toward providing 
means for protection and shelter. The earliest human 
dwellings are supposed to have been caves, or very rudely 
constructed huts. According to the views presented in 
" Art in Theory," so long as men expended no thought 
or emotion upon these beyond that needed in order to 
secure an end of utility there was no art of architecture. 
But it is impossible to conceive that the human mind 
would not begin very soon, in this department as in all 
others, to pay some attention to aesthetic ends. " So far 



REPRESENTATION IN ARCHITECTURE. 



315 



as we can at present discover," says Wyatt in his " Fine 
Arts," " the earliest attempt at architectural effect was 
the decoration of the face of the cave which formed 
the dwelling of the individual (see Fig. 171, page 315). 
Openings, made for the access of light and ventilation 
with more or less rude cutting scarcely worthy of the 
name of architec- 
tural decoration, ^jP>^ 
were executed with 
rude implements 
at a very early age. 
Masses of stone, 
left to support the 
superincumbent 
rock, as the natural 
cavern was en- 
larged, gave origin 
to those rude piers 
which, at first 
misshapen, subse- 
quently squared, 
then reduced by 
the cutting off of 
the angles to an 
octagonal shape, F | Qi 171.— rock tomb at myra in lycia. 
and further shaped See pages 315, 316, 375, 376, 387, 397, 403, 407. 
by additional cut- 
tings to a polygonal section, ultimately assumed the form 
of the cylinder, slightly tapered" (see Fig. 1 72, page 3 1 7). 
Again he says : " At an extraordinarily early period in 
the history of mankind we meet with structures in which 
stone and other mineral substances simulate construc- 
tions in wood (see Figs. 171, page 315, and 172, page 317). 




1 6 PAINTING, SCULPTURE, AND ARCHITECTURE. 



It would be unnatural to suppose that these construc- 
tions had not their prototypes in buildings of wood." 

In other words, to put this in language conforming to 
what was said on page 314, the earliest traces of architec- 
ture indicate endeavors to make pictures — of course, as the 
material used was stone, to make sculptured pictures — out 
of that which was being constructed. Fig. 171, page 315, 
for instance, represents one of the earliest attempts at 
architecture that has been discovered in Asia Minor. 
Looking at it, one would suppose that it was a cave, in 
front of which a framework of wood had been erected. 
Not at all. It is merely a picture in stone of such a 
framework. Again, Fig. 172, page 317, represents a very 
ancient interior of a cave-temple in India. Here, also, 
one would suppose that pillars and rafters of wood had 
been introduced in order to support a ceiling which other- 
wise might fall. Not at all. These apparently wooden 
columns and beams have been carved out of the native 
stone of the cave. Why has this been done ? Can any 
one doubt the reason of it ? Can any one fail to perceive 
in them the influence of a picturesque and statuesque 
motive ? Can even those who prophesied so confidently 
that the theory of this series of essays was sure to break 
down when it came to be applied to architecture, be so 
dull as not to see that this wellnigh earliest architecture 
of which we know was distinctively representative ? Ob- 
serve, too, that it was representative of both mental con- 
ceptions and material appearances. No one looking at the 
entrance of the one cave, or the interior of the other, 
could fail to recognize both that a man had been at work 
upon it, and also that he had been at work for the pur- 
pose of reproducing that which he had seen elsewhere. 
It would represent the man, because one would know 



REPRESENTA T/OJV IN ARCHlTECTURJl. 



317 



that the person who had planned the carving had been 
accustomed to wooden constructions, and it would repre- 
sent his thoughts and feelings with reference to these, 
because it would show his appreciation and admiration 
of certain of their effects. Otherwise he would never 
have tried to reproduce similar effects through the use of 
material infinitely harder to shape. 




FIQ. 172.— CAVE OF ELEPHANTA, INDIA. 
See pages 315, 316, 575, 376, 389, 407. 



Now, with these facts in mind, which will give a gen- 
eral conception of the principle to be unfolded, let us 
recall what was said in Chapter VII. of " Art in Theory" 
with reference to the beginnings of all the arts. It was 
pointed out there that they all spring from elaborations 
for aesthetic purposes of forms used, at first, for merely 
practical purposes. It is inevitable that a human being, 
constituted as he is, will represent his thoughts through 



3 iB PAINTING, SCUIPTURE, AND ARCHITECTURE. 

inarticulate and articulate utterances, and through draw- 
ing and carving pictures. It is equally inevitable that, 
after a while, his imagination will start to play, so to 
speak, with the forms through which these representa- 
tions are made, and that, finally, each of these forms will 
be developed into an art. The accuracy of this state- 
ment can be verified as applied even to the lower forms 
of the arts of ornamentation. For practical purposes, a 
man produces a piece of woven cloth or something made 
through the use of it. That the cloth may not ravel at 
its edge, a section of it is purposely unravelled there, or a 
hem is made there, or, if two pieces of cloth are used, a 
seam is produced where the two are joined. After a 
little, according to a law which the mind always follows, 
the imagination begins to experiment with these neces- 
sary contrivances, and then the unravelled edge, the hem, 
the seam, each respectively, becomes a fringe, a border, 
or a stripe ; i. e., each is developed into one of the well- 
known ornamental resources of the art of the tailor or 
upholsterer. It is the same in architecture. When the 
imagination begins to play with the underpinnings of 
buildings, or with the means of approaching and entering 
them, it gives us foundations, steps, or porches; when 
with the parts upholding the roof, it gives us pillars, 
pilasters, or buttresses ; when with the tops, sides, and 
bottoms of openings, it gives us caps, jams, or sills of 
doors or windows ; when with the roof and its immedi- 
ate supports, it gives entablatures, eves, gables, spires, or 
domes. 

Fig. 173, page 319, taken by permission from the Intro- 
duction to Fergusson's " History of Architecture," will 
illustrate this. The part of the picture at the left shows 
us little except brick and mortar and openings. It repre- 



REPRESENTATION- IN ARCHITECTURE. 



319 



sents a house, but not a product of what, in any sense, 
can be termed the art of architecture. But each section 
to the right of this shows more and more of the develop- 
ment, through the play of imagination, of artistic possi- 
bilities. First, the vertical sections between the windows 
are brought forward and given the effects of pilasters, 
which are also connected at their tops by arches. A cor- 




FIQ. 173.— DEVELOPMENT OF ARCHITECTURAL FEATURES. FERQUSSON. 
See pages 52, 318, 319, 323, 343, 344, 360, 380. 

nice too is added to the building. Next the cornice and 
the horizontal spaces between the windows are orna- 
mented. Next, differently cut stone is introduced into 
the lower story, horizontal string-courses are made to 
separate all the stories, and a balustrade is placed above 
the cornice. Lastly, the width of the building is in- 
creased, and almost every feature in it is shaped more 
ornamentally and grouped more symmetrically. 



320 PAINTING, SCULPTURE, AND ARCHITECTURE. 

Such being the process of the development of architec- 
ture, let us try to ascertain in what sense the art may be 
said to represent both mental and material conditions. 
When an experienced traveller comes upon caves or huts 
or any buildings that have been used by human beings, 
even if mere ruins like those discovered on the sites of 
Pompeii and Herculaneum, he instinctively draws certain 
inferences with reference to them. These inferences 
have to do with the structural uses of the different feat- 
ures of a building as related to one another or to its loca- 
tion ; and they have to do also with the ideal uses for 
which, according to the conceptions of the architect, 
as determined by the requirements of convenience or 
pleasure, the building is planned. In other words, these 
inferences are based upon the supposition that the forms 
can represent both the material method of the construc- 
tion and the mental purpose of the design. 

For instance, a traveller, judging merely from appear- 
ances, may say with reference to the methods of con- 
struction, that some particular pillar, bracket, lintel, arch, 
was shaped and placed as it is in order to furnish just the 
support needed for some particular weight or arrange- 
ment of material which is over it. Or he may say that 
some particular foundation was laid as it is in order to 
suit some particularly rocky, sandy, or marshy soil; or 
that some particular roof was pitched as it is in order 
to fit a dry or a wet climate, to shed rain or snow. Or, 
judging from arrangements of doors or windows, he may 
say, with reference to the general uses of a building, that 
some particular part is an audience hall, a chapel, or a 
picture gallery. Even if he find nothing except founda- 
tions, he can often declare this to be a theatre, and that to 
be a temple, or a bath, or a private house ; and not only so, 



REPRESENTATION IN ARCHITECTURE. 32 1 

but sometimes, as at Pompeii, he can tell the uses of each 
of the different rooms of the house. 

Observe that, in all these ways, it is possible for a build- 
ing to be representative ; moreover, that, just in the de- 
gree in which it is so, the interest awakened by it is 
enhanced. It then comes to have the same effect upon 
us that would be produced did its builder stand by us 
and tell us exactly what his thoughts were when design- 
ing the arrangement that we see. It is as if he were to 
say : " I had a conception that it would be a good idea 
in this position to have an arch projected so, or a ceiling 
supported by a bracket inserted so ; or a foundation in 
soil like this laid so ; or a roof in a climate like this 
shaped so ; or a chapel for a sect like this planned so ; or 
an audience hall for an assembly like this arranged so." 
And the more one knows of architecture, the more in- 
numerable will he recognize to be the thoughts, arid, in 
the degree in which ornamentation is increased, the 
aesthetic feelings that it is possible for the architect 
to represent through these apparently lifeless forms of 
wood or brick or stone. 



CHAPTER XVIII. 

ARCHITECTURAL REPRESENTATION OF MENTAL CON- 
CEPTIONS : FOUNDATIONS AND WALLS. 

Representation of the Constructive Idea in the Foundation — The Side Walls 
— Pillars, Buttresses, Pilasters, String-Courses — Effects of Satisfaction 
and Repose versus those of Insecurity in Support Afforded by Pillars — 
Arches — Brackets — Important for the Apparent Support to be the Real 
Support — Pleavy Cupolas and Ventilators — Unrepresentative Pediments 
— The Purpose of a Building as Determining its General Plan — As De- 
termining its Interior Arrangements — As Determining its Exterior Ap- 
pearance — Representative of the Interior Plan through the Exterior — 
Appearance of Five Cottages Contrasted — The Same Principle Applied 
to Other Buildings — Street Fronts — Palaces — Colleges — Porches, Win- 
dows, and Doors. 

HEARING up, first, the representation in architecture of 
the constructive idea, let us consider this as mani- 
fested in the arrangements that are connected, first with 
the foundations ; second, with the sides, and third, with 
the roofs. With reference to the foundations, it is evident 
that whatever may be their real character, the effect of 
stability in a building depends upon their being made 
visible ; and, of course, the same effect may be greatly 
increased by increasing their apparent sizes, and pro- 
jecting their shapes outward from the building's base. 
Notice this fact as exemplified in the contrasted effects 
produced, on the one hand, by the large foundations 
under the buildings in Figs. 3, page 24, 13, page 36, 

322 



ARCHITECTURAL REPRESENTATION. 323 

14, page 36, 42, page 83, and, on the other hand, by the 
smaller foundations under the building to the left in Fig. 

173, page 319, also in Fig. 174, page 324. Such contrasted 
effects with which all of us are familiar show that the rep- 
resentative principle, as applied to architecture, necessi- 
tates every building's having a visible foundation ; and, 
not only this, but one of such size and shape as to suggest 
no doubt of its being equal to the task of giving firm sup- 
port to that which is above it. 

Analogous effects are produced, of course, by arrange- 
ments connected with the sides of buildings. Fig. 

174, page 324, has been criticised because lacking a 
visible foundation. But notice, nevertheless, how inter- 
esting and aesthetically interesting it is, because appa- 
rently representing, by means of visible rafters, the method 
of the construction of its walls. The same effect will be 
seen in the cottages also in Fig. 187, page 340, and Fig. 
189, page 342. Observe, too, the house from eastern 
Russia, Fig. 175, page 325. How much more interesting 
and beautiful this is than would have been possible for a 
building of its class, had the logs of which it is con- 
structed been covered by clapboards instead of being left 
exposed ! 

In accordance with this principle, any arrangements 
that reinforce the blankness of a wall, and, at the same 
time, do this in a way to render apparent a real method 
of construction, increase the representative and therefore 
artistic effects. Sometimes these effects are produced by 
pillars as in Fig. 14, page 36; sometimes by buttresses, 
as in Fig. 41, page 81 ; sometimes by string-courses, as 
in Figs. 202, page 363, and 207 page 370 ; sometimes by 
other jutting masonry, as in Fig. 25, page 53 ; and 
sometimes by a combination of all these methods as in 



324 PAINTING, SCULPTURE, AND ARCHITECTURE. 

Fig. 198, page 351. When, however, as in the pilasters 
in Fig. 176, there is too great an exaggeration of that 




FIG. 174.— HOUSES AT MORLAIX, FRANCE. 
See page 323. 



which is necessary for support, there is danger that the 
form will appear emphasized at the expense of the con- 




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326 PAINTING, SCULPTURE, AND ARCHITECTURE. 

structive idea, and, of course, this effect, if produced, will be 
as detrimental as would be the contrary. Notice a further 
comment on this building on page 348. The explanation 
of the influence of representative constructive methods is 
that they impart a sense of satisfaction and repose by 
seeming to reveal the reasons why they are used. For 
instance, the impression conveyed by large stone pillars 
like those in Fig. 177, page 327, could be greatly improved, 




FIG. 176.— VALMARINA PALACE, VICENZA, ITALY. 
See pages 324, 348, 358, 380. 

and at trifling cost, by causing the stone upon which they 
rest, or enough stone for them to rest upon, to appear 
below the gallery. As it is, they seem to be held up by 
a wooden panelling, which, of course, could not be strong 
enough for the purpose, Moreover, through the aid of 
concealed ironwork, they are projected slightly forward 
from the wall below them, and this again enhances the 
impression of instability. 



ARCHITECTURAL REPRESENTA TION 



327 



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Scarcely less strikingly is a like result produced by the 
unnecessarily complicated arrangements about the lower 
part of the larger tower and its parasite tower in Fig. 178, 
page 328. A more simple and dignified as well as sub- 
stantial effect would have been attained had there been in 
the under half of the tower only one arch. This should 
have been shaped, too, like the present middle arch. In 
that case, the distinct discord produced by the present 
lower large arch, as seen 
in contrast to the arch 
above it, would have been 
avoided ; in other words 
like would have been put 
with like, as required by 
the artistic principle un- 
folded in Chapter X. of 
" The Genesis of Art- 
Form." 

A similar sense of in- 
security is conveyed by 
the heavy gable without a 
visible arch under it placed 
over the space behind the 
large bay window at the 
left of the building of the 

University of Pennsylvania, Fig. 179, page 329. In Fig. 
180, page 330, again, there is apparently nothing to hold 
up the stone sides of the upper part of the tower. The 
roof under them would at once be crushed into splinters 
if the apparent support were the real support. Another 
example of a similar effect will, perhaps, make our mean- 
ing more clear. It is becoming customary in our country 
to have a heavy roof supported by concealed iron girders, 



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FIQ. 177.— EXETER HALL. 
See pages 326, 330, 336. 



328 PAINTING, SCULPTURE, AND ARCHITECTURE. 

even where, from the inside, it is made to appear to be 
supported by wooded beams. In such cases, to one 
standing under these beams it is essential that they seem 
at least large enough to sustain the weight that is above 
them. Otherwise, the effect produced is one of aesthetic 




FIG. 178.— AN AMERICAN CHURCH. 
See pages 327, 330, 355. 



discomfort. For even though a man may be convinced 
that the roof will not tumble, the slender support repre- 
sented by the beams will make him feel that, logically, it 
should do so. Nor is it necessary, in order to experience 
this impression, that he should know exactly what is the 



A R CHI TE C T UK A L KEPRE SEN TA TION. 



329 



cause of it. If sensitive to the influences of form, he may 
merely say that the roof seems too heavy. Why it seems 
so can not always be told, except by one accustomed to 
analyze such effects. Fig. 181, page 331, represents a 
small beam at a corner apparently intended to hold up a 
ceiling. But a ceiling as heavy as this, if really held up 




FIG. 179— MAIN BUILDING, UNIVERSITY OF PENNSYLVANIA. 
See pages 327, 331, 355, 371. 

thus, would certainly snap the beam and fall, inside of 
three minutes. 

It is w r orth noticing, now, that the violation of the prin- 
ciple of representing the method of construction in at 
least four and, perhaps, in all the cases that have been 
cited, is owing - , as is this last, to a use of concealed iron. 



330 PAINTING, SCULPTURE, AND ARCHITECTURE. 



This is one reason for the effect of the pillars in Fig, 177, 
for that of the tower in Fig. 180 and, possibly, also for that 
of the tower in Fig. 178. • 

In all these cases, too, the exercise of a little more con- 
structive imagination would probably have prevented the 
architect from making his forms appear to be what they 
could not possibly be in reality. The effect in Fig. 181 of a 
heavy roof, for instance, could be obviated by the simple 

expedient of enlarging the 
corner beam. But a more 
radical and, for this reason, 
thorough way of correcting 
the error would be to avoid 
all deceit, and, in accord- 
ance with the method in 
art sometimes termed sin- 
cerity (see page 407), to ar- 
range the materials in such 
ways that the apparent 
support would be the real 
support. In an age of iron, 
why should not the iron be 
shown, and allowed to re- 
veal its genuine character? 
If a roof be really sup- 
ported by steel girders, why should not the steel be visi- 
ble ? A ceiling of wood, revealing its natural colors and 
grainings, resting on beams of polished or nickel-plated 
steel, might be made to have effects, both as regards ma- 
terial and color, in the highest sense chaste and beautiful. 
The metal might even be ornamented and as legitimately 
too as if it were bronze. Look at the ceiling in the 
church at New Walsingford, England, in Fig. 182, page 




FIG. 180.— HIGH SCHOOL TOWER. 
See pages 327, 330. 



ARCHITECTURA L RE PRE SEN TA T10N. 



»3i 



332. Why might not something of an analogous char- 
acter be produced through a combination of wood and 
metal ? After all, the difficulty, in our age, is not to find 
new methods of producing genuinely artistic effects, but 
to find artists with sufficient originality to recognize their 
possibilities. Nor is there a surer way in which they may 
be led to realize them than through coming to know and 
feel and embody in their products the principle that all 
art, even constructively considered, should be repre- 
sentative. 




FIQ. 1S1.— SUPPORT OF A CHURCH ROOF. 
Seepages 329, 330. 



This failure to represent the method of support, or 
even, sometimes, the fact of sufficient support, is exceed- 
ingly common in modern architecture. Notice the cupola 
over the central, or rather corner building, evidently 
a library or chapel, in Fig. 183, page 333 ; also the venti- 
lator over the centre of the Old South Church, Fig. 24, 
page 52 ; also the turrets at each corner of the square 
central part of the Pennsylvania University, Fig. 179, page 



332 PAINTING, SCUIPTURE, AND ARCHITECTURE. 



329. Looking at such features, one is obliged to draw- 
one of two conclusions : either that they are slight con- 
structions of wood, in which case they suggest incongru- 
ity with the stone of the buildings under them, and 
instability both on account of their material and of their 
liability to be destroyed by fire ; or he must conclude that 
they are of heavy and substantial material ; but if he do 

this, the impres- 
sion of instabil- 
ity is increased, 
because no roof 
could s e em 
strong enough 
to hold them. 
The former con- 
clusion would 
apply also to the 
ventilators on 
the roofs of al- 
most all the 
buildings in Fig. 
183, page 333, 
which look as if 
their architect 
had actually in- 
tended them to 
seem ornamen- 
tal ! But ventilators would be better joined to the chim- 
neys. They certainly do not add to dignity and sub- 
stantiality of effect, when constructed as if they were 
intended to be traps in which to catch fire-brands. 

Another common violation of this representative prin- 
ciple, as well as of that of " sincerity," as applied to con- 




FIQ. 182. 



DECORATION OF A CHURCH CEILING. 
See page 330. 




CO CO 

0£ 



334 PAINTING, SCULPTURE, AND ARCHITECTURE. 






struction, is in such arrangements as can be noticed over 
the side aisles on each side of the tower in the Madison 
Square Presbyterian Church in Fig. 201, page 361. It is 
difficult to conceive how any architect could imagine that 
it would improve the appearance of the front to misrepre- 
sent the character of the roof behind it. Those whom the 
gable there fails to deceive cannot avoid aesthetically 
resenting the attempted deception ; and those whom it does 
deceive cannot avoid having their thoughts disturbed by 
trying to conjecture how a roof so shaped can afford a 
watershed for the rain. Even the facade of Trinity Church, 
Boston, Fig. 25, page 53, is objectionable, and, in this re- 
gard, far less satisfactory than that of the finely designed 
cathedral by the same architect (Fig. 184, page 335). The 
square front of Trinity does not represent the roof be- 
hind it ; nor is the effect of this fact at all counteracted 
by the effort of the misrepresented apex to put in an ap- 
pearance through rising over the obstruction just above 
the centre. The objection to the whole is, that the wall 
of a building should represent support. This square form 
does not represent the method of support ; nor does it, ap- 
parently, support anything itself. Therefore it appears 
to be a sham. Moreover, it produces mental perplexity. 
It causes one to ask : What, exactly, is the shape of the 
roof? and, even though this can be guessed, to ask again : 
How is such a roof affixed to such a wall? 

Having examined now the representation of the mate- 
rial method of construction, as manifested in the arranging 
or adjusting of one feature to fit another, let us pass on, 
and examine the representation of the mental object — in 
other words, of what we generally understand when we 
use the term plan. 

The first thought suggested by this term has reference 
to internal arrangements. A building is planned for 




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FIG. 184— ELEVATION OF PROPOSED CATHEDRAL, ALBANY, 

BY H. H. RICHARDSON. 

See pages 334, 378, 380. 

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336 PAINTING, SCULPTURE, AND ARCHITECTURE. 

a certain use ; and, when well planned, these arrangements 
will almost necessarily reveal it. As was said on page 320, 
when men examine ruins, whether in Greece, Asia Minor, 
or Italy, they are able to make out a theatre, a temple, 
a bath, or a private house, and they can often tell us 
the uses of each of its different rooms. The most primi- 
tive buildings are thus recognized to be designed to attain 
certain ends ; and, for this reason, they can be said to 
represent these. Evidently our more modern architec- 
tural products can continue to do the same. Theatres, 
churches, markets and private houses of the present, if 
really adapted for that for which they are designed, will 
represent this. An audience hall, for instance, in which 
it is desirable in every part to hear and see what is going 
on in some other part, demands an open space free from 
pillars or other architectural contrivances interfering with 
sound or sight. Such pillars, on the other hand, may add 
greatly to the convenience of an arcade, a market-place, or 
a bourse, where people need, as in the ancient Forum, 
merely shelter, while promenading or bargaining in com- 
paratively small as well as separate groups. In ritualistic 
churches again, in which an elaborate ceremony, intended 
for the eye, is carried on about an altar considered to 
represent in a peculiar sense the divine presence, a chan- 
cel is in place ; but not so in a building for non-ritualistic 
services. In this, a chancel means nothing. And yet, 
here too, a skilful architect can produce effects equalling 
those of the chancel through recesses made for the choir 
and pulpit. On the surface, facts like these seem so self- 
evident, as hardly to need mention. But, for some mys- 
terious reason, many of our foremost architects, in their 
practice, totally disregard them. Notice again, Fig. 177, 
page 327. 



ARCHITECTURAL REPRESENTATION. 33? 

Another fact, apparently self-evident, is that when a 
building is to be planned, the first thing to do is to decide 
upon the arrangement of the halls and rooms of the inte- 
rior, and let this arrangement determine that of the ex- 
terior. Yet the old Douglas Park University of Chicago 
is said to have been partly erected, in accordance with a 
purpose to produce a certain external effect, before any 
attempt whatever had been made to divide up the space 
inside of it. 

But, once more, if the internal arrangements are to 
determine the external ones, as must evidently be the 
case in all logical construction, then, in the degree in which 
this principle is carried out artistically, i.e., in such a way as 
to be made apparent in the form, that which is on the inside 
must be represented on the outside. In other words, a 
building to be made expressive of the thought, which, in 
this case, would mean the design of the artist, must have 
an external appearance which manifests the internal plan. 

Admitting this, let us ask what the features of the 
internal plan are which in any case may supposably be 
manifested. Of course, they are the sizes — i.e., the 
heights and widths — and the numbers and the uses of 
the different rooms. Now let us ask if, actually, it is 
possible for the exterior to manifest these, and, if so, 
how ? For an answer, let us trace the development of 
the methods of doing it, starting with comparatively 
primitive exemplifications of them, through the use of 
four cottages taken with the kind permission of Mr. 
Ralph Nevill, from his very interesting illustrated work 
upon " Old Cottage and Domestic Architecture." 

Fig. 185, page 338, shows us a cottage at Chiddingfold, 
England. In this not only is no desire manifested, 
through the arrangement of doors and windows, to pro- 



338 PAINTING, SCULPTURE, AND ARCHITECTURE, 

duce a symmetrical effect ; but — what concerns us more 
now, — no indications are given, on the outside, of the 
widths or heights or sizes or uses of the rooms on the 
inside. We know that there are two stories and, possi- 
bly, an attic; but of this latter we can only form a guess. 
The whole building is almost totally expressionless, and — 
what in this case is the same thing — uninteresting. 







FIG. 185.— COTTAGE AT CHIDDINGFOLD, ENGLAND. 
See pages 54, 337, 339, 358. 

Fig. 186, page 339, a cottage at Sandhills, Witley, Eng- 
land, is somewhat more representative. Four of the win- 
dows are arranged in some order, though we feel like 
demanding a fifth window over the door, and a sixth at 
the door's right side. The beams, too, seem to reveal 



ARC HI TECTURA L REPRESEN TA TlON. 



339 



something of the mode of construction, and of the ar- 
rangement of the interior, though of this last we are not 
certain. At the same time, this cottage is more interest- 
ing than that in Fig. 185. 

In Fig. 187, page 340, a cottage at Tuesley, we can 
notice a decided increase in representative features. The 
windows on the second floor placed, as they are, just over 




FIG. 186— COTTAGE AT SANDHILLS, ENGLAND. 
See page 338. 



the openings on the first floor, show some regard for 
artistic effects. The vertical beams on the outside of the 
lower floor apparently give us a clew to the separations 
between rooms in the interior, while the projection over 
the lower windows indicates the place of the second story's 
floor. 



340 PAINTING, SCULPTURE, AND ARCHITECTURE. 

Fig. 188, page 341, the inn at Chiddingfold, contains all 
the representative features of the last with some additions. 
It is still more interesting, because still more emphasis is 
given in it to the entrances, to the separations between 
stories, and to the chimneys. The front projection below 
the second floor makes a covering for the doors ; and 




FIG. 187.— COTTAGE AT TUESLEY, ENGLAND. 
See pages 323, 339, 358. 



these doors, evidently, lead into the office of the inn, or 
into a sht^p or bar-room ; because, as one can see, the en- 
trance into the inn's hall is at the side, a visible proof of 
which is afforded not only by the porch there, but by the 
irregularly arranged windows above it, lighting a stairway. 



A R CHI TE C T URA L RE PRE SEN TA TION. 



341 



Finally, in Fig. 189, page 342, Unsted Farm, as it is 
called, the architect has secured representative effects both 
of form and of significance ; or rather, as is always the 
case where this is well done, ornamental effects of form 
through emphasizing features that have significance. 
These effects, as seen in the beams of the exterior, are no 




FIG. 188— INN AT CHIDDINGFOLD, ENGLAND. 
See pages 340, 358, 359. 



more necessary than the same as seen in the chimneys ; 
but they add greatly to our interest, and they do so 
largely because this aesthetic emphasizing of them makes 
them represent also the mental design. As we look at 
the building we know almost exactly the widths, heights, 



342 PAINTING, SCULPTURE, AND ARCHITECTURE. 

sizes, and shapes of all its prominent rooms, and can form 
a very accurate guess of that for which each of them is 
intended. Of course the same method might be applied 
to any building. 

Walls in which there are doors, windows, and projec- 
tions such as pilasters, pillars, buttresses, or string-courses, 




FIQ. 189.— UNSTED FARM, ENGLAND. 
See pages 323, 341, 358. 



— and the same is true of foundations, porches, and roofs, — 
awaken as much more interest than do blank walls, as bod- 
ies do when infused with a soul having the power to express 
thought and feeling than they do when they are merely 
corpses. Of course, too, the more clearly the architec- 



ARCHITECTURAL REPRESENTA TIO/V. 



343 



tural features reveal not only that there is thought and 
purpose behind them, but what this thought and purpose 
is, the more successful is the result. How much more so 




FIQ. 190— MARIEN PLATZ, MUNICH. 

See pages 344, 360, 380. 



is even the house at the left of Fig. 173, page 319, than 
would be a blank wall ! How much more successful than 



344 PAINTING, SCULPTURE, AND ARCHITECTURE. 

this house is each of the houses to the right of it in the 
same figure ! Observe, however, the very great increase 
of interest awakened by the fourth style of front, and, for 
the reason that, in this, the different stories are, for the 
first time, clearly indicated by the string-courses between 
them ; while, in the two upper stories, other divisions are 
indicated apparently separating rooms. Compare, again, 




FIG. 191.-UNTER DEN LINDEN, BERLIN. 
See pages 344, 360, 364. 



the inexpressive front in the building facing us in Fig. 
190, page 343, "The Marien Platz of Munich," or the 
fronts in Fig. 191, page 344, " Shops in the Unter den 
Linden in Berlin," with the less costly, but more repre- 
sentative fronts at the left of Fig. 193, page 346, " A Street 
and Belfry at Ghent " ; or with the fronts in Fig. 192, page 
345, " The Boulevard of St. Michael, Paris." Compare, 




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346 PAINTING, SCUIPTURE, AND ARCHITECTURE. 






too, the inexpressiveness of the facade of the Strozzi 
Palace at Florence, Fig. 194, page 347, with the expres- 
siveness of that of the Chateau of Chenonceau, Fig. 195, 




FIQ. 193.— A STREET AND BELFRY AT GHENT. 
See pages 344, 362, 380. 

page 348. In the former, the walls are entirely blank 
with exception of horizontal string-courses ; but these 



ARCHITECTURAL REPRESENTA T10N. 



347 



being immediately under the windows, do not suggest 
an}' connection with the floors ; though they do suggest 
one aesthetically essential appearance, which is that of 
being an artistic adaptation of a useful feature : i.e. of a 
sill. In the chateau the string-courses are in the right 




FIG. 194.— STROZZI PALACE, FLORENCE. 
See pages 346, 347, 359, 360. 



places, and the heavy masonry between the windows 
makes us feel, even without vertical projections, that 
stone partitions are behind them. Representatively 
considered, too, though one might object, on other 
grounds, to the mixture of styles, the wing at the left 



348 PAINTING, SCULPTURE, AND ARCHITECTURE. 

clearly revealing itself to be a chapel, is not the least com- 
mendable feature. Fig. 196, page 349, shows both horizon- 
tal and vertical divisions. As a principal entrance into 
the grand court of the Palace of the Louvre, the excess of 




FIQ. 195.— CHENONCEAU CHATEAU, FRANCE. 
See pages 346, 347, 352, 378. 



ornamentation, evinced in its pillars, may be justified. 
There is no question, however, that one has a different 
feeling with reference to the front of the Valmarina 
Palace of Vicenza, Italy (Fig. 176, page 326), especially in 



A R CHI TE CTl *RA L RE PRE SEN TA TION. 



349 



view of its unsuccessful upper story. The pilasters do 
not represent any arrangements on the interior, being 
merely imitative of effects in other buildings to which the 
architect had become accustomed. Nor does the cornice 
represent any constructive use. The upper story would 
have been just as firmly placed, had it been below the 
cornice instead of above it. 

Once more, compare, aside from what may be said of 
their roofs to which reference will be made presently, 
Queen's College, Galway, in Fig. 
197, page 350, with the University 
at Sydney, Australia, in Fig. 198, 
page 351. Both buildings would 
be called non-ecclesiastical Gothic; 
but notice the difference between 
the artistic effects of the two, 
owing to the greater representative 
characteristics of the latter. In 
the first, is a string-course between 
the stories, and an indication of a 
large room, probably a chapel, 
over the central doorway. But in 
the second, besides string-courses, fig. 196.— pavilion of riche- 
there are projections of the walls LIEU ' PARIS " 

and also buttresses, and arrange- See pageS 5a '*f' 358 ' 359 ' 
ments of windows and doors, 

which seem, at least, to reveal the character of almost 
every part of the interior. At the extreme right is, 
undoubtedly, the chapel; then, to the left of it, judg- 
ing from the corresponding gable on the nearer side of 
the central tower, is a high room, which, as indicated by 
both the windows and door, must be either a library or a 
museum. In the section just to the left of the tower 





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3^2 PAINTING, SCiJIPTURE, AND ARCHITECTURE. 

comes first, judging from the windows, a stairway ; then 
on the lower floor, two rooms, and on the upper floor, one 
large room ; while between the two gables at the left, are 
three rooms on the lower floor, and two on the upper. 
At least these are the interior arrangements which are indi- 
cated by the exterior, and whether or not these particular 
rooms are in the building, the fact of the indication of 
them is of itself sufficient to make the whole interesting, 
which cannot be affirmed of the front of Queen's College, 
Galway. 

In speaking both of the Chateau of Chenonceau, Fig. 
*95> P a g e 34-8, an d of the University of Sydney, Fig. 
198, page 351, reference was made to the way in which 
high long windows represent high large rooms like those 
devoted to divine service, to libraries, or to museums. In 
this connection, too, it may be well to direct attention 
again to St. Isaac's Church, St. Petersburg, Fig. 12, page 
35, where, as was said, the large porch and numerous 
doors of the front suggest preparation for the entrance 
and exit of large crowds ; while the great dome over the 
centre suggests preparation for large audiences requiring 
plenty of air. 



CHAPTER XIX. 

ARCHITECTURAL REPRESENTATOIN OF MENTAL CONCEP- 
TIONS. — ROOFS. 

Domes — False Domes — Useless Cupolas, Pinnacles, Towers, Spires — The 
Same Used as Memorials — Even these should be Artistic and so Repre- 
sentative — This Principle as Applied to Spires and Towers — The Roof 
Proper — Rounded Roofs — Roofs as too Large and too Small or Invisi- 
ble — Gutters and Cornices, Plain and Castellated — Balustrades as Repre- 
senting Flat Roofs — Visible Roofs in City Streets — Paris Streets and 
the Court of Honor at the Columbian Exhibition — Streets in New York 
— Objections to High Buildings — Legislative Methods of Preventing 
them — .Esthetic Regulations about Sky-line, Color, and Style — The 
Sky-line and Mansard Roof. 

THE paragraph at the end of the last chapter suggests 
a transition to the subject of roofs, of which every 
dome is a modification. These, if apparent at all, are, 
owing to their situations, necessarily conspicuous, and, 
for this reason, afford an architect an opportunity of 
manifesting whatever ability he may possess in a con- 
spicuous way. This fact explains the origin of most of 
the shapes that are given to them, as well as of the 
features which are added to them beyond those de- 
manded by the requirements of shelter. The dome 
in Fig. 12, page 35, for instance, is one of these features. 
It is not prompted by any desire to secure a useful end. 
Merely because any roof is conspicuous, the artist con- 
ceived the idea of arranging this one so as to appear con- 
2 3 353 



354 PAINTING, SCUIPTURE, AND ARCHITECTURE. 



spicuously artistic ; and he produced a form which may be 
said to be a result of imagination as moved to effort by 
the play-impulse (see Chapter VIII., "Art in Theory"). 
But, at the same time, in the place where it is, and over a 
building designed as is the one under it, it also represents, 
as has been said, the amplitude, both horizontal and per- 
pendicular, of the 
space beneath it. 

wSuppose, how- 
ever, that the dome 
did not represent 
this space. Sup- 
pose that, there- 
fore, owing to our 
associations with 
domes in general, 
it misrepresented 
what was beneath 
it. Suppose that 
it was no dome at 
all, because it was 
solid beneath, and 
spanned no space ; 
and that, therefore, 
it manifested no constructive skill nor any kind of 
technical mastery over material difficult to work — what 
then? Facing us in Fig. 199, page 354, is one of two 
structures flanking the Royal Theatre on the Schiller 
Platz, Berlin. What this structure really is, is not at all 
what it seems to be. Neither its pillars nor any part of it 
are constructed of stone. All is of wood and stucco. 
Under the apparent dome are only rough beams and 
rafters holding it up ; and, though directly behind it is a 




FIG. 199.— SCHILLER PLATZ, BERLIN. 

See pages 354, 357, 380. 



ARCHITECTURAL REPRESENTATION. 355 

church — the much smaller and plainer building to its 
right — the pretended and pretentious entrance in front of 
this is not used for a portico even on Sundays, its only 
apparent object being to furnish a perfect example of 
architecture that is not representative. 

Without being so conspicuously out of place, similar 
characteristics are manifested by any number of smaller 
cupolas, pinnacles, towers, and spires in almost every city 
or town of modern construction. Think how many of 
these are supposed to add architectural interest to the 
chapels, recitation halls, and dormitories of our ordinary 
American colleges. Notice, for instance, on the main 
building of the University of Pennsylvania in Fig. 179, 
page 329, the cheap wooden turrets above the front en- 
trance, and others at each side of the building above the 
bay windows. Nor does any aesthetic effect produced by 
them justify the two large towers — especially towers so 
cheaply constructed — which flank the building. This, as 
a whole, would have manifested more artistic unity, had 
the money to be expended been concentrated upon a 
single tower, placed in the centre, as in Fig. 198, page 
351. Indeed, even in this latter building, the general 
appearance is somewhat impaired by the little towers at 
the sides, unobtrusive as they are. Recall once more, 
too, the ornamental cupola and ventilators on the roofs of 
the Normal School, Fig. 183, page 333 ; and the turrets 
on Queen's College, Galway, Fig. 197, page 350; also, the 
crowding of features about the tower in Fig. 178, page 
328. In none of these cases will one who is willing to 
think of the subject, find it difficult to perceive what is 
meant when it is said that, if it had not been for the desire 
to ornament unduly, the impression conveyed would have 
been more satisfactory, because more simple, strong, and 



356 PAINTING, SCULPTURE, AND ARCHITECTURE. 

reposeful. In the efforts of art as of all human action, it 
is important to remember that the fussy is never consist- 
ent with the dignified. 

But it may be asked now, very reasonably, whether 
representation of the method of construction or of the 
internal design is the only justification for using such fea- 
tures as we have been considering? Take the dome on 
St. Isaac's, Fig. 12, page 35. Besides spanning a large 
interior space, does it not serve also as a memorial of the 
Head of the church and of His work? And, as such, is it 
not as appropriate as any other monument erected in 
commemoration of any other person or event? And, if 
this be so, should the result not be judged by the appear- 
ance which it presents rather than by any internal 
arrangement which it may be supposed to represent? 

To the first two of these questions an affirmative 
answer can be given ; but not to the last one, except 
with modifications ; and for this reason : The way in 
which it is asked shows a misconception of that which is 
necessary in a monument or memorial. What is it that is 
necessary ? We can determine this by recalling the fact 
that the moment men erect anything but the plainest 
tombstone sufficient to convey information concerning 
the person buried beneath it, they begin to be actuated 
by an aesthetic motive. But according to the principles 
unfolded in " Art in Theory," an aesthetic motive tends to 
the representation both of material and of mental condi- 
tions. Therefore, unless the dome represent both the 
material space beneath it, and the mental purpose for which 
this is to be used, it is, so far, unsuccessful. Notice, too, 
that it fails of success, as is true in all such cases, on account 
not of something that can supposably exist independently 
of the form, but of something that ought to be under the 



ARCHITECTURAL REPRESENTATION. 357 

form, as the soul is under the body. An unrepresentative 
monument is a soulless monument ; and, for this reason, 
unfit to serve any grand memorial purpose. Architec- 
tural features that do not show skill in representation, 
do not show distinctively artistic skill, which is mani- 
fested in nothing so much as in adapting material means 
to mental ends. To apply this principle to roofs, it is the 
ingenuity with which their necessary features are turned 
into those of a dome, as well as the difficulties overcome 
in doing this, that gives value to the dome. Judged by 
this test, of course, the Berlin ornamental structure in 
Fig. 199, page 354, has scarcely any value. 

The same principle applies to the spire of a church. Its 
character, too, is partly useful. It enables strangers to 
know where to find a, place of worship. But in part, also, 
especially as it has been developed, it is monumental 
and ornamental. For this reason, care should be taken 
to have it appear not essentially cheaper than the edifice 
to which it is attached. As a rule, a stone church should 
have a stone steeple, not a wooden one. On large public 
buildings, again, such as schools and colleges, a cupola, or 
any like arrangement, can accomplish a useful purpose. 
It can serve for a clock tower, belfry, or observatory. But 
if it cannot do this, it would generally better be omitted. 
The same can be said of towers on houses situated in city 
streets, where they are overtopped by surrounding build- 
ings, or placed in positions where they themselves need 
not be seen from a distance, or where other things need 
not be seen from them ; that is to say where there is no 
possible use to which they can be put. Only where archi- 
tecture, which is a development of that which is useful in 
building, turns into ornamental features things primarily 
intended to be of use, is it carrying out the principles 



358 PAINTING, SCULPTURE, AND ARCHITECTURE. 

of representative art. When it is doing anything else, as 
in arbitrarily introducing unnecessary features in order 
thus to obtain something that can be made ornamental, it 
is in danger of carrying out no principles of art whatever. 

Now turning from domes, spires, towers, turrets, and 
pinnacles, which are ornamental modifications of the 
roof, let us consider, aside from these, the roof alone, 
which, in many forms of architecture, is itself shaped so 
as to serve the purposes of ornament. There is no need 
of reminding careful observers of the importance of the 
feature to be thus examined, or of the difficulty experi- 
enced in treating it successfully. Many a building appears 
all right as far up as the top of the upper story, and then it 
appears all wrong. There are several reasons for this, but 
it is not too much to say that a chief one is the difficulty 
experienced in trying to make the roofs truly representa- 
tive. In the case of small houses there is no great excuse 
for not doing this. It is always possible to make a roof 
shaped like that in Figs. 13, page 36; 175, page 325; 183, 
page 333 ; 185, page 338 ; 187, page 340 ; 188, page 341 ; 189, 
page 342 ; or 196, page 349, or without reference to the 
arrangement of the cornice and wall under it Figs. 176, 
page 326, or 211, page 377. The real difficulty comes when 
there are large spaces to be spanned, either in a single 
building or in many connected buildings, like those lining 
the streets of a city ; or when again, either in such build- 
ings or in others, convenience or safety renders a flat roof 
desirable. 

In these days, when we think of large spaces to be 
spanned, our minds recur, at once, to railway stations 
and their rounded ribs, if not entire roofs, of iron. To 
these there can be no possible aesthetic objection. Nor 
is there any reason why iron should not be used with 



ARCHITECTURAL REPRESENTATION. 359 

smaller roofs of similar shape (see Fig. 196, page 349) ; nor 
why, when so used, the fact of its presence should be con- 
cealed. Yet this is often done, and done so effectively, 
and by architects whose imaginations are so incapable of 
originating a successful lie, that the result is not only 
negatively non-representative but positively misrepresen- 
tative. Of course, this condition can be satisfactorily 
changed only when architects, obliged to use such ma- 
terial, become thoroughly convinced that it is always 
possible to attain an aesthetic end without violating any 
first principle of art ; in other words, that it is possible to 
ornament even iron, and thus, without introducing any- 
thing foreign to utility, and therefore unrepresentative, 
to adapt it to artistic purposes. It is singular, as intimated 
on page 330, that it has not yet been recognized how 
chaste and beautiful roofs of this kind, genuinely con- 
structed, might be made to appear. They would be ex- 
pensive, of course, but not disproportionably so to the 
carved stone columns which would probably accompany 
them in buildings of the character in which they would 
appear. 

Where the space to be spanned is large, whatever may 
be the material of the roof, too much of it or too little of 
it is apt to be made visible. For instance, the effects of 
the Strozzi Palace, Fig. 194, page 347, and Queen's Col- 
lege, Gahvay, Fig. 197, page 350, are rendered unsatisfac- 
tory by the absence, among other things, of a visible 
roof. Notice how much more expressive than this latter 
building, on account largely of the presence of this feature, 
is the University at Sydney, Fig. 198, page 351. 

But now, again, compare the primitive arrangement, 
in which are gutters at the sides of the roof, as in Fig. 188, 
page 341, and in Fig. 183, page 333, with the artistic devel- 



360 PAINTING, SCULPTURE, AND ARCHITECTURE. 



opment of the same in the cornice at the top of the Strozzi 
Palace, Fig. 194, page 347, and also at the top of all the 
shops on the Unter den Linden, Berlin, Fig. 191, page 
344. In these latter buildings, there are possibly no 
gutters, nor arty necessity for them within the cornice, 
because the whole roofs are inclined slightly toward the 
rear. 

Compare again the castellated ornamentation under the 
visible roof on the wall of the University at Sydney, Fig. 

198, page 350, and also of the 
building facing us in the Marien 
Platz, Munich Fig. 190, page 
343, with the same kind of orna- 
mentation at the top of Queen's 
College, Galway, Fig. 197, page 
350, and the Oxford High 
School, Fig. 206, page 369. As 
originally used, in the mediaeval 
castles, this castellated form ac- 
companied a flat roof. See Fig. 
200, page 360. Therefore, by 
way of association, in case no 
visible roof appears above it, it 
may be said now to represent a 
roof of the same kind. 
But it may be asked, whether there is no possible 
method of topping a wall so as to cause it to represent 
a flat roof in a less indirect way ? Look at the bal- 
ustrade above the cornice over the houses at the right 
of Fig. 173, page 319, also over the building at the right 
of Fig. 201, page 361. What does a balustrade as thus 
indicated represent? What is it for? What but to keep 
people from falling over? But if they need to be kept 




FIQ. 200.-MEDI/EVAL CASTLE. 
See page 360. 




!!«,■• 



FIG. 201.— MADISON AVENUE, NEW YORK. 

See pages 334, 360, 364, 380. 



361 



362 PAINTING, SCULPTURE, AND ARCHITECTURE. 

from this, they must be expected to walk on the roof 
behind the balustrade. But how could they walk on a 
roof unless it were flat? A few questions like this will 
lead to the inference that a balustrade necessarily repre- 
sents a flat roof. Now, if we compare with this inference, 
the fact that this sort of ornamentation is recognized by 
almost everybody as, on the whole, the most satisfactory 
for a wall supporting a flat roof, we shall have obtained 
at least one proof that when by conscious design or uncon- 
scious accident the architect faithfully represents actual 
conditions, he does exactly what will fulfil the artistic 
conceptions of the majority of people. 

If there must be a flat and invisible roof, undoubtedly 
some such arrangement as this is the best through which 
to indicate the roof's exact character. Still, when a build- 
ing is not too high, the desire for a visible roof is natural. 
How shall it be embodied in the result? On the right in 
The Street and Belfry in Ghent, Fig. 193, page 346, are 
arrangements in which such results are obtained, but it is 
evident that they are hardly feasible where buildings are 
very large, or where there are heavy falls of rain or snow. 
Besides this, it is a valid aesthetic objection that such 
roofs interfere with the appearance of a street as a whole, 
because they render almost impossible any effect of uni- 
form height. However, at the right of this same figure, 
is a building in which gables somewhat like those on the 
opposite side of the street are placed above a clearly 
defined horizontal cornice ; and this cornice might be con- 
tinued from building to building of the same height, and 
thus secure a uniform sky-line. In the University at Syd- 
ney, Fig. 198, page 351, we have a large roof evidently 
constructed on a similar principle ; and in the Trinity 
School, New York, Fig. 202, page 363, we have a smaller 



ARCHITECTURAL REPRESENTA TION. 



3^ 



and exceedingly satisfactory roof of the same kind. When 
the spaces to be spanned are not too great, a roof of this 
general character, is probably the most apt to be success- 
ful It is a genuine roof. In all regards it is exactly 
what it seems to be, with no contrivances designed to 
conceal its real shape. Moreover, the line on which rest 
the sills of the upper windows, as well as the line formed 
by the tops of the gables, would render effects of uniform 
height and therefore of an unbroken horizontal sky-line 
possible, were buildings thus planned arranged in groups 
or on streets. 




FIG. 202.-TRINITY SCHOOL, NEW YORK. 
See pages 323, 362, 369. 



That these effects are desirable, anyone who has seen 
the streets of Paris (see Fig. 192, page 345), or who saw 
the " Court of Honor " at the Columbian Exhibition at 
Chicago (Fig. 203, page 365), does not need to have argued. 
At Chicago, the universally recognized aesthetic result was 
largely due to two causes — a uniform color and a uniform 
sky-line. The buildings manifesting these were neither of 
uniform sizes, nor styles. Even their heights were differ- 
ent, the Hall of Mechanical Arts overtopping by fully 
one half those surrounding it (see the building at the 



364 PAINTING, SCULPTURE, AND ARCHITECTURE. 

left of Fig. 203, page 365). But it was flanked on all sides 
by a very wide modification of a portico, and it was with 
the height of this portico alone that the other buildings 
facing the Court of Honor were compared. The success 
of the arrangement ought to be recalled by every archi- 
tect or builder who takes any pride in the appearance of 
the city or town in which his work is to be seen. If not, 
he might learn a lesson at least from the way in which 
the subject is regarded and treated in Paris, as illustrated 
in Fig. 192, page 345. The general effect of the Unter 
den Linden in Berlin (Fig. 191, page 344) corresponds very 
closely to that of one of our older American streets ; and 
how much inferior it is to the French Boulevard need not 
be argued. 

But are we improving? If so Fig. 201, page 361 can 
show us exactly the direction in which we are doing so. 
One who claims that architecture may be, and should be, 
representative of a state of mind, ought not, perhaps, to 
complain of the appearance of this street. No one can 
deny that it is representative. The trouble is that it 
does not represent what is agreeable or inspiring. It 
represents, alas, New York. It represents the commercial 
spirit entirely overtopping the aesthetic and sanitary in 
general ; and the religious and domestic, as manifested by 
the church and house to the left, in particular. In more 
senses than one it represents selfishness and greed, en- 
tirely throwing into the shade beauty, health, kindness, 
rationality, and safety. Were it possible for any artistic 
motive to appeal to ourlegislatures, they would pass laws 
enabling owners of churches and houses afflicted as are 
these at the left of this picture, to obtain from any one 
erecting a building like the tall one, damages of an 
amount to render its erection impossible. Beautiful 



^ 



366 PAINTING, SCULPTURE, AND ARCHITECTURE. 

building as it is, considered only in itself, it makes worse 
than wasted every penny ever expended for the purpose 
of giving the adjoining buildings architectural dignity or 
value. 

Of course, nobody can imagine that our legislators will 
ever be influenced by aesthetic considerations. But they 
might be reached by other considerations. To say noth- 
ing of preventing risk to life through earthquake or con- 
flagration in edifices, fireproof too often only in name, 
some law should be found to prevent robbing one's near 
neighbors of sunshine and health, as well as one's distant 
neighbors of real estate values, which a less grasping ap- 
propriation of fortunately situated lots would distribute 
more generally. In fact, the conditions are such that it 
would not be strange if, at no distant date, the practical 
and moral aspects of the subject, aside from the aesthetic, 
would so appeal to public sentiment that offices and hotels 
in these high buildings would be as much avoided as now 
they are sought. 

It may be urged that high building cannot be prevented 
in this country, because it is free. But it is not free — for 
those who interfere with even the convenience, not to say 
the rights, of others. There is a law in certain states of 
Germany that no facade can be higher than the width of 
the street which it faces. Some such law passed in our 
own States, in order to secure health and safety, would do 
this not only, but probably attain also the desired aesthetic 
end. Architects, assured that no building could exceed 
a certain height, would be quite certain to prevent other 
buildings from overtopping their own, by seeing that 
theirs were carried up to the exact limits of possibility. 
Were this done, our streets would have a uniform sky- 
line. Meantime, while legislation falters, why should not 



L 



A R CHI TE C T URA L REP RE SEN TA TION. 



3^7 



the aesthetic considerations influence individuals ? Why- 
should not those interested in the development of new 
streets have introduced into the deeds sold a prescribed 
height beyond which facades should not be carried ? Or, 
to enlarge the question, and this in a practical direction, 
why should not trustees of institutions of learning pass 
laws prescribing not only the sky-line, but the color and 
style of new buildings erected by benefactors. As for the 
style, that is the best which, while securing unity, admits 




IJfW-ipP^- 



FIG. 204.— WALKER MUSEUM, CHICAGO UNIVERSITY-— Cosmopolitan" Magazine. 
See pages 369, 380. 



of the greatest variety both in appearance and degrees 
of expense. Columbia College has started out with an 
expensive library, in the Graeco-Roman style, to be 
constructed, of course, as must everything in this style, of 
cut and polished stone. The question is whether it will 
be easy to erect museums, recitation-halls, and possibly 
dormitories of various shapes, that will conform to this 
style ; and whether, if this will be easy, there will be 
money enough for the purpose ; or, if so, whether it will 




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ARCHITECTURAL REPRESENTA T/OJV. 



ify 



be wisely expended for such a purpose. It certainly 
seems, at first thought, that the authorities of the Uni- 
versity of Chicago have adopted a wiser course. Their 
buildings are in the Gothic style. One peculiarity of this 
style is that it 'can be varied almost infinitely. A num- 
ber of buildings can be constructed either with towers or 
without them, and yet, when grouped together, produce 
an effect of unity. Without approving of all the archi- 
tectural features in the two 
figures, the reader may recog- 
nize the truth of this state- 
ment by comparing and con- 
trasting the buildings in Figs. 
204, page 367, and 205, page 
368. Notice, also, possible 
modifications of the same 
style — though, of course, 
when a roof is visible in one 
building, it should be visible 
in all — in Fig. 206, page 369 ; 
Fig. 198, page 351 ; and Fig. 
202, page 363. Another pecu- 
liarity of the style is that it 
admits of equal variety in 
expense. The stone is generally uncut, but any amount 
of carving is admissible in the elaboration of details. Ob- 
serve the tower in Fig. 206, page 369. As a result, a dormi- 
tory, costing only fifty thousand dollars, may stand at 
the side of a chapel costing five hundred thousand, and 
yet both buildings contribute equally to the harmony of 
the whole series of buildings. 

These remarks have not been wholly in the nature of a 

digression. After what has been said of the necessity of 
24 




FIQ. 206. 

PUBLIC SCHOOLS, OXFORD, ENGLAND. 

See pages 360, 369, 380. 



370 PAINTING, SCULPTURE AND ARCHITECTURE. 



uniformity in color and style, the reader will more fully 
realize the importance of uniformity in the sky-line ; and 
why, therefore, the desire to secure this plays so promi- 
nent apart in the shapes 
that have been designed 
for roofs. Evidently in 
the Boulevard of St. 
Michael, Paris, Fig. 192, 
page 345, this desire in 
connection with a desire 
to render some part of 
the roof visible, not- 
withstanding its gener- 
ally flat character, ac- 
counts for its method 
of construction. It is 
worth noticing, how- 
ever, that the visible 
part of it does not pass 
into the flat part until 
the curve in which it 
starts from the perpen- 
dicular naturally bends 
into the horizontal. 
After this, for the roof 
to continue in a hori- 
zontal direction, does 
not involve any great 
degree of misrepresen- 
tation. Unfortunately, 
of the American imi- 
tation of this arrangement. This imitation seems to 
have arisen from a desire to avoid having the roof so 




FIG. 207— BEDFORD BUILDING, BOSTON. 

See pages 323, 371, 380. 

the same cannot be affirmed 



ARCHITECTURAL REPRESENTATION. 37 1 

high as to necessitate putting an attic into it, as is 
done in the Parisian original. Possibly an analogous 
result could be attained by making the roof bend back- 
ward more rapidly. But this would give an arch less 
symmetrical in form than in the Paris roof, and, for this 
reason, less beautiful. The Bedford building, Fig. 207, 
page 370, affords a good example of the American man- 
sard. As will be perceived, it does not at all conceal, as 
does the Paris roof, the fact that the roof is really flat. A 
less satisfactory mansard roof will be observed over the 
central part of the building of the University of Penn- 
sylvania, Fig. 179, page 329. Besides being out of 
keeping with the style of the rest of the building, the 
whole character of the construction and surroundings of 
this square arrangement, as in the wooden pinnacles at 
its corners, shows it to be a cheap substitute for that 
which, to accord with the uses of the building, should 
have produced an effect diametrically the opposite. 



CHAPTER XX. 

ARCHITECTURAL REPRESENTATION OF MATERIAL 
SURROUNDINGS. 

Object of the Present Chapter — Architecture Involves more than Natural 
Arrangements for Shelter — But is Developed from these — Rendered 
more Representative — Primitive Huts as Developed into the Temples 
on the Acropolis — Primitive Tents as Developed into the Oriental 
Temples — Primitive Rounded and Pointed Arches, Domes, and Spires 
— This Imitation sometimes Conscious, sometimes Unconscious — 
Development of Styles Based on Straight Lines, Curves, and Angles — 
Criticism on the Views of Helmholtz — The Principles of Correspond- 
ence as Fulfilled in Architectural Forms — Suggestive and Imitative 
Representation as Fulfilled in it and in other Arts — Architectural 
Examples. 

T N the last chapter, we were considering in what sense 
architecture represents mind, i. e., the thoughts and 
emotions, which have their sources in man in general and 
in the artist in particular. We have still to consider how 
it represents external appearances, traceable, in their final 
analysis, to the material appearances of nature by which 
the mind or the man is surrounded. As shown in Chapter 
VII. of "Art in Theory," and as said many times in this 
book, all the arts owe their existence to the play of imagi- 
nation when elaborating methods of vocal and manual ex- 
pression, which, previously to their artistic development, 
have reached a certain stage of inartistic, and, in this 
sense, natural development. Poetry, for instance, is de- 

372 



REP RE SENTA TION OF MA TERIA L S URR O UN DINGS. 373 

veloped from unsustained forms of sound, as in the articula- 
tions of language ; music from sustained forms of sound as 
in intonations ; painting and sculpture from manual ex- 
pression, as in drawing, coloring, or carving ; and architec- 
ture from the same, as in constructing. 

This fact, as applied to the latter art, is sometimes over- 
looked. While no one confounds poetry, painting, or 
sculpture with the early inartistic form of expression from 
which it is developed, there are many who suppose that 
everything used for the purpose of shelter, even the 
rudest hut of the savage, is an exemplification of architec- 
ture. But one might as well suppose everything of the 
nature of language to be an exemplification of poetry. It 
has a relation to poetry. It contains the germs from 
which the art grows ; but this is all. So with the hut of 
the savage, and with many constructions more preten- 
tious. An ordinary woodshed has no more to do with 
architecture than the cry of our nursery, the talk of our 
kitchen, the sign of our barber, or the rock of our curb- 
stone has to do with the respective art to which it seems 
allied, whether music, poetry, painting, or sculpture. 

This being understood, it will be perceived that just as in 
the essays upon " Poetry as a Representative Art," and 
" Music as a Representative Art," the artistic methods of 
the arts discussed were derived from the previous natural, 
in the sense of non-artistic, uses of language and intona- 
tion, so here it is logical to hold that the artistic methods 
of architecture must be derived from the natural, in the 
sense of non-artistic, methods of building ; in other words, 
from these as developed by the natural as distinguished 
from the artistic man. 

Natural construction, like natural language, is always- 
representative. This alone is a reason why artistic con- 



374 PAINTING, SCULPTURE, AND ARCHITECTURE. 

struction should continue to be the same. A cave dis- 
covered and used by a savage may be a natural dwelling ; 
but it is not even a natural product of human construction 
until after he has begun to change it in order to make it 
more suitable for his uses. Notice, too, that when he 
does do this, he begins to make his product representative 
of his ideas and purposes, which fact, as we have found in 




FIQ. 208.— CHIEFS' HOUSES, KEREPUNA, AUSTRALIA. 
See pages So, 375, 376, 386, 397. 



the last chapter, causes it to manifest the mental condi- 
tion necessary to an artistic result, i. e., to represent the 
man. Observe again, too, that, very soon after beginning 
to make changes in the cave, he is apt to go beyond the 
requirements of utility, and to make them for the purpose 
of introducing ornamentation ; moreover, that this orna- 
mentation is apt to assume the appearance of something 



REPRESENTATION OF MATERIAL SURROUNDINGS. 375 

that he has seen elsewhere ; and that, when this is the 
case, it represents not only himself, but something that is 
outside of himself, something that belongs to the visible 
universe ; something which, when making a distinction 
between it and mind, we are accustomed to term nature. 
In these circumstances, both the mental and material 
conditions are present, which, as maintained throughout 
these essays, are necessary to the production of art of the 








FIG. 209— RESTORATION OF THE WEST END OF THE ACROPOLIS, ATHENS. 
See pages 376, 380, 386, 3S7, 397, 407. 



highest quality ; and it is then, too, as shown in the carved 
face of the cave in Fig. 171, page 315, and in the carved 
pillars of the cave's interior in Fig. 172, page 317, and as 
explained on page 316, that we have the beginnings of the 
art of architecture. 

But caves are not the only natural forms of shelter which 
can be rendered artistic. Fig. 208, page 374, shows us a 
natural way of using the trunks of trees and underbrush so 



376 PAINTING, SCULPTURE, AND ARCHITECTURE. 

as to shield from sunshine and shed water. Fig. 209, page 
375, shows us what is evidently only an artistic develop- 
ment of the same forms. Is it necessary to argue that 
the motive which, as in Figs. 171 and 172, caused men to 
carve the stone of the caves without or within, so as to 
represent wooden beams and pillars, was exactly the same 
as that which caused the architects of the earliest buildings 
like those in Fig. 209 to represent in stone the wooden 
methods of construction, such as are seen in Fig. 208? 




FIG. 210.— TENT OF EASTERN ASIA. 
See pages 376, 386. 

Look, again, at the shape of the tent in Fig. 210, page 
376; it is taken from Cassell's " Aross Thibet," and 
represents the tent ordinarily used all over Asia to-day. 
Now look at the shape of the roofs in Fig. 211, page 377. 
This shape will be found repeated in every temple and 
palace in eastern Asia, almost without exception. More- 
over, whenever we visit palaces or temples in that part of 
the world, we find, as a rule, not one large structure, but, 
instead of this, in one large enclosure, dozens and scores 
of structures, none of them of superlative size. This fact 



L 



REPRESENTATION OF MATERIAL SURROUNDINGS. 377 

of itself, but especially in connection with the sagging 
roofs, would be enough to enable us to detect the source 
from which these forms have developed, even aside from 
the description in the Old Testament of the reproduction 
not only, but the representation of the tent-tabernacle 
of the wilderness in the elaborate permanent temple at 
Jerusalem. 




FIQ. 211— WINTER PALACE, PEKIN. 
See pages 358, 376, 380, 386. 

So we could probably go through all of our present 
styles of architecture and detect in them no more than 
legitimate artistic developments of methods that might 
be termed non-artistic or natural. Two primitive roof- 
forms have been noticed. Figs. 212, page 379, and 213, 
page 381, will show us primitive domes — the first in the 



378 PAINTING, SCULPTURE, AND ARCHITECTURE. 

form of a rounded arch, and the second in that of a pointed 
arch. Notice, too, the arched doorway in Fig. 213. Figs. 
214, page 383, and 208, page 374, again will show us primi- 
tive turrets or spires. The former are of exactly the same 
shape, too, as those in Figs. 184, page 335, and 195, page 349. 

It is not meant to be maintained here that all archi- 
tects who first used the dome or pointed spire, or windows 
with round or pointed arches, did so because they had 
personally seen among savage tribes similar constructions, 
which they consciously imitated. The same cause that, 
among the savages, would operate to make those using 
cheap material build with a round or pointed arch, 
would operate also among those using costly material. 
All that it is intended to maintain, is, that these several 
forms are first adopted in order to meet certain require- 
ments of nature ; and afterwards are imitated and orna- 
mentally developed in order to meet artistic requirements. 

In his " Sensations of Sound," while discussing a ques- 
tion of comparative aesthetics, Helmholtz gives a very clear 
statement of the commonly accepted view which attributes 
Greek architecture alone to the actual imitation of wooden 
buildings. Afterwards, according to him, the other styles 
were developed from this style. His statement is worth 
quoting. " The whole analysis and arrangement of their 
decorations," he says, referring to the Greeks, " clearly 
show that it was their intention to imitate wooden con- 
structions. The verticality of the supporting columns, 
the general horizontality of the supported beam forced 
them to arrange all the subordinate parts for the great 
majority of cases in vertical and horizontal lines. 1 The 

1 Those not familiar with the styles of architecture to which reference is 
made in this passage and elsewhere in this book will find illustrations of 
Greek architecture (based on the horizontal line) of the Doric order in Figs. 




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380 PAINTING, SCULPTURE, AND ARCHITECTURE. 

purposes of Greek worship, which performed its principal 
functions in the open air, were satisfied by erections of 
this kind, in which the internal spaces were necessarily 
limited by the length of the stone or wooden beams 
which could be employed. The old Italians (Etruscans), 
on the other hand, discovered the principle of the arch 
composed of wedge-shaped stones. This discovery ren- 
dered it possible to cover in much more extensive build- 

14, page 36 ; 209, page 375 ; and 215, page 387. The main difference be- 
tween this and the Ionic order is sufficiently indicated by the capital in Fig. 
216, page 388, and between it and the Corinthian order in the capitals in 
Figs, ir, page 34, and 226, page 394. The composite order had a capital 
similar to the Corinthian, but crowned at the top with an Ionic scroll (Fig. 
216, page 388). Roman architecture, which added to Greek forms the round- 
arch, is well represented by the building at. the left of Fig. 203, page 365, its 
central entrance being an exact reproduction of a Roman triumphal arch. 
The Grseco-Roman style included both pillars and entablatures with arched 
forms as in Figs. 12, page 35, and 199, page 354. The last two styles are 
often included in what is termed the Renaissance, by which is indicated the 
result of the fifteenth century's revival mainly of Roman architecture, though 
it does not necessarily, as in Fig. 196, page 349, involve the use of an arch. 
See Figs. 173, page 319 ; 176, page 326; 192, page 345 ; and 201, page 361. The 
Romanesque style has the round arch, but seldom the entablature. Its By- 
zantine form may be seen in Figs. 15, page 37, and 40, page 81. Its Norman 
form is approximated in Figs. 184, page 335, and 207, page 370. See also 
Figs. 218, page 390 ; 219, page 391 ; and 25, page 53. The Gothic, based 
on the pointed arch may be seen in its earlier pointed form in Figs. 41, page 
81 ; 43, page 84 ; 3, page 24 ; and in its later decorated form in Figs. 144, 
page 205, and 220, page 392. A modern development of this may be noticed 
in Fig. 24, page 52, while one building in Fig. 190, page 343, and the 
tower in Fig. 193, page 346, show characteristics both of the pointed and 
later styles. Perpendicular Gothic, developed, soon, into the florid and also 
Tudor, is well illustrated in Fig. 234, page 404, and by the window only in 
Fig. 43, page 84. Notice also Figs. 13, page 36; 198, page 351 ; and 206, 
page, 369. The more debased Elizabethan style used mainly in non-ecclesi- 
astical buildings, may be seen in Fig. 197, page 350 ; and modern Gothic in 
Figs. 204, page 367, and 205, page 368. The Davidian Indian style is illus- 
trated in Figs. 232, page 400, and 233, page 401, and the most characteristic 
phase of the Oriental in Fig. 2ri, page 377. 



REPRESENTATION OF MAfERUt SURROUNDINGS. 381 

ings with arched roofs than the Greeks could do with 
then- wooden beams. Among- these arched buildings the 
halls of justice (basilicas) became important, as is well 







FIG. 213.-KAFFIR STATION, AFRICA. 

See pages 377, 378, 384. 



known, for the subsequent development of architecture, 
the arched roof made the circular arch the chief principle 
m division and decoration for Roman (Byzantine) art 
Ihe columns, pressed by heavy weights, were transformed 



380 PAINTING, SCULPTURE, AND ARCHITECTURE. 

purposes of Greek worship, which performed its principal 
functions in the open air, were satisfied by erections of 
this kind, in which the internal spaces were necessarily 
limited by the length of the stone or wooden beams 
which could be employed. The old Italians (Etruscans), 
on the other hand, discovered the principle of the arch 
composed of wedge-shaped stones. This discovery ren- 
dered it possible to cover in much more extensive build- 

14, page 36 ; 209, page 375 ; and 215, page 387. The main difference be- 
tween this and the Ionic order is sufficiently indicated by the capital in Fig. 
216, page 388, and between it and the Corinthian order in the capitals in 
Figs. 11, page 34, and 226, page 394. The composite order had a capital 
similar to the Corinthian, but crowned at the top with an Ionic scroll (Fig. 
216, page 3S8). Roman architecture, which added to Greek forms the round 
arch, is well represented by the building at the left of Fig. 203, page 365, its 
central entrance being an exact reproduction of a Roman triumphal arch. 
The Grseco-Roman style included both pillars and entablatures with arched 
forms as in Figs. 12, page 35, and 199, page 354. The last two styles are 
often included in what is termed the Renaissance, by which is indicated the 
result of the fifteenth century's revival mainly of Roman architecture, though 
it does not necessarily, as in Fig. 196, page 349, involve the use of an arch. 
See Figs. 173, page 319 ; 176, page 326 5192, page 345 ; and 201, page 361. The 
Romanesque style has the round arch, but seldom the entablature. Its By- 
zantine form may be seen in Figs. 15, page 37, and 40, page 81. Its Norman 
form is approximated in Figs. 184, page 335, and 207, page 370. See also 
Figs. 218, page 390 ; 219, page 391 ; and 25, page 53. The Gothic, based 
on the pointed arch may be seen in its earlier pointed form in Figs. 41, page 
81 ; 43, page 84 ; 3, page 24; and in its later decorated form in Figs. 144, 
page 205, and 220, page 392. A modern development of this may be noticed 
in Fig. 24, page 52, while one building in Fig. 190, page 343, and the 
tower in Fig. 193, page 346, show characteristics both of the pointed and 
later styles. Perpendicular Gothic, developed, soon, into the florid and also 
Tudor, is well illustrated in Fig. 234, page 404, and by the window only in 
Fig. 43, page 84. Notice also Figs. 13, page 36; 198, page 351 ; and 206, 
page, 369. The more debased Elizabethan style used mainly in non-ecclesi- 
astical buildings, may be seen in Fig. 197, page 350 ; and modern Gothic in 
Figs. 204, page 367, and 205, page 368. The Davidian Indian style is illus- 
trated in Figs. 232, page 400, and 233, page 401, and the most characteristic 
phase of the Oriental in Fig. 2ri, page 377. 



HEPRESEtfTA T/ON OF MA FERIAL SURROUNDINGS. 38 1 

ings with arched roofs than the Greeks could do with 
their wooden beams. Among- these arched buildings the 
halls of justice (basilicas) became important, as is well 




FIG. 213.-KAFFIR STATION, AFRICA. 
See pages 377, 378, 384. 

known, for the subsequent development of architecture. 
The arched roof made the circular arch the chief principle 
in division and decoration for Roman (Byzantine) art. 
The columns, pressed by heavy weights, were transformed 



382 PAINTING, SCULPTURE, AND ARCHITECTURE. 

into pillars on which, after the style was fully developed, 
columns merely appeared in diminished forms, half sunk 
in the mass of the pillar, as merely decorative articulations 
and as the downward continuations of the ribs of the 
arches, which radiated towards the ceiling from the upper 
end of the pillar. In the arch, the wedge-shaped stones 
press against each other, but, as they all press inwards, 
each one prevents the other from falling. The most power- 
ful and most dangerous degree of pressure is exerted by 
the stones in the horizontal parts of the arch, where they 
have either no support, or no obliquely placed support, 
and are prevented from falling solely by the greater thick- 
ness of their upper extremities. In very large arches, the 
horizontal middle portion is consequently the most dan- 
gerous, and would be precipitated by the slightest yield- 
ing of the materials. As then mediaeval ecclesiastical 
structures assumed continually larger dimensions, the idea 
occurred of leaving out the middle horizontal part of the 
arch altogether and of making the sides ascend with 
moderate obliquity, until they met in a pointed arch. 
From thenceforward, the pointed arch became the domi- 
nant principle. The building was divided into sections 
externally by the projecting buttresses. These and the 
omnipresent pointed arch made the outlines hard, and the 
churches became enormously high. But both characters 
suited the vigorous minds of the northern nations, and, 
perhaps, the very hardness of the forms, thoroughly sub- 
dued by that marvellous consistency which runs through 
the varied magnificence of form in a Gothic cathedral, 
served to heighten the impression of immensity and power. 
We see then how the technical discoveries which were 
associated with the problems as they rose successively 
created three entirely distinct principles of style — the 



384 PAINTING, SCULPTURE, AND ARCHITECTURE. 

horizontal line, the circular arch, and the pointed arch, 
and how, at each new change in the main plan of con- 
struction, all the subordinate individualities down to the 
smallest decorations were altered accordingly ; and hence 
how the individual rules of construction can only be com- 
prehended from the general principles of construction." 

Any one inclined to accept this statement, need but 
glance again at Figs. 212, page 379 ; 213, page 381, and 214, 
page 383, to recognize that the same argument which makes 
Greek architecture a development of primitive hut-forms, 
could make Romanesque and Gothic architecture the 
same. Moreover, it is not true, historically, that, even as 
used among the civilized, the pointed arch first appears in 
the mediaeval ecclesiastical structures. According to 
Gwilt's " Encyclopaedia of Architecture," " The pointed 
arch is used throughout the mosque erected by the Calif 
Walid at Jerusalem in the year 87, or about A.D. 705." He 
states also that " the aqueducts that supplied Constanti- 
nople with water, which were commenced under Con- 
stantine immediately after the founding of the city, but 
completed under Valens, A.D. 364 and 378, exhibit pointed 
arches." In addition to this it may be said that, even 
were all architectural styles except the Greek developed 
from previously existing styles, one reason for this would 
be that the moment a style of architecture comes into 
general use, it becomes one of the surrounding appear- 
ances, influencing the man who sees it. At the same 
time, it could seldom be the only appearance surrounding 
him, or exerting an influence upon him ; and any architect 
who saw, side by side, a Greek temple and a hut with a 
rounded roof, might, according to the degree of his 
originality, be inclined to imitate the latter. Always, 
however, were he acquainted with the methods of Greek 



REPRESENTATION OF MATERIAL SURROUNDINGS. 385 

construction, he would construct that which he imitated, 
though a form that was not Greek, according to the 
Greek methods. There is this much truth, therefore, in 
the statement of Helmholtz. All architectural forms are 
developments of previously existing forms. But while 
some of these are architectural, others of them are of that 
primitive character which we have termed natural. 

In accordance, now, with everything that has been said 
in this volume, let us notice the order of the develop- 
ment of the representation of appearances in architecture 
as fulfilling the principles of correspondence by way, first, 
of association or suggestion ; and, later, of comparison 
or imitation On page 8 it was said that in association 
things are connected that have a like general effect, though 
they may not seem alike in their details ; whereas in com- 
parison things are connected that in their details as well 
as in their general effects seem alike. In strict conformity 
with this order of representative development, notice that 
in poetry, music, painting, and sculpture, the first effect 
which the primitive artist, tries to reproduce is a general 
outline of something, either of a story, or of a method of 
intonation, as in a rude ballad or chant ; or of a figure of 
a man or a beast, as in a rude sketch by pencil or chisel. 
Notice, too, that even when the desire for ornamentation is 
quite strong, he is satisfied, at first, merely by emphasizing 
the factors of outline as in measures and verses, or in colors 
and shadings. The early poet does not usually give that 
careful attention to minutiae, which in more civilized times 
causes a distinctively poetic style, and he never has what 
is termed a flowery style, by which, as usually interpreted, 
is meant a style excessively full of comparisons. Nor 
does the earlier musician make any attempt at the signifi- 
cant accompaniments and florid variations which come 



386 PAINTING, SCULPTURE, AND ARCHITECTURE. 

later ; nor does the earlier painter or sculptor imitate in 
color or line the less obvious appearances of surfaces and 
textures. So with architects. The Assyrian, Indian, 
Egyptian, Grecian, and Gothic builders, all started with 
representation merely in general effects, such, for instance, 
as justify us in saying that the forms in Fig. 209, page 
375, resemble those in Fig. 208, page 374, or the forms in 
Fig. 211, page 377, resemble those in Fig. 210, page 376. 
Even long after pillars were given capitals and care was 
taken with the arrangements of entablatures and pedi- 
ments, no ornamentation appeared except in the way of 
giving additional emphasis to their necessary character- 
istics, as in Fig. 14, page 37. But just as the straight 
onward flow of poetic style begins, after it passes the 
ballad period, to be filled up with allusions, mainly associa- 
tive and suggestive, and after that with imitative descrip- 
tions of flowers, plants, streams, mountains, and the various 
men and living creatures that can be seen surrounding 
one, so the straight onward lines of architectural style, 
when it gets beyond the archaic period, begin to be 
filled up with, first, associative suggestions, and after that 
with careful imitations of the appearances of nature. As 
Samson says, in his " Elements of Art Criticism," " In 
Egyptian structures, temples, walls, and pylons, as well as 
obelisks and pyramids, slope inward from the base to the 
summit, according to the law of strength suggested by 
nature in the trunks of trees, jutting rocks, and mountain 
peaks." But in later developments of these columns " the 
French savans of A.D. 1798 detected three classes, and 
named them after the object in nature from which their 
capitals were modelled : first, the lotus-bud capital, copied 
from the closed bud of the water lily ; second, the lotus- 
flower capital, or open lotus ; and third, the Osiride capital, 



REPRESENTATION OE MATERIAL SURROUNDINGS. 387 

presenting a four-faced head of the god Osiris. Some of 
the capitals, again, used in shafts in the temple at Jerusa- 
lem, were formed of lily work and rows of pomegranates. 
Callimachus is said to have had the shape of the capital 
used on the shafts of the Corinthian order" — a late de- 
velopment again — (see Fig. 226, page 394) " suggested to 
him by seeing the shape assumed by an acanthus growing 
up over a basket that happened to be placed over it." 




FIG. 215.— GREEK DORIC TEMPLE OF /EQINA. 
See pages 380, 389, 396. 



As illustrating the order in which these different 
methods of ornamentation appear, notice — what without 
illustration the mind might recognize to be necessarily 
true — that only general outlines are at first repre c ented, 
as in the framework on the outside of the cave, Fig. 171, 
page 315, and even in the arrangements of the front of the 
temples in Fig. 209, page 375, and 14, page 56. Observe, 
too, the unornamented character of the pillars and pedi- 



388 PAINTING, SCULPTURE, AND ARCHITECTURE. 



ment of the latter, as well as in the example of Roman- 
esque pillars in Fig. 218, page 390, and of Gothic pillars 

in Fig. 43, page 84. 

Very soon, however, 
the imagination begins 
to play with the details 
of form. The first re- 
sult of this is to produce 
a style of ornamentation 
which is termed conven- 
tional because, when 
once introduced, it be- 
comes the fashion, and 
is adopted as decisively 
as if by vote in conven- 
tion. In this style from 
the very start, however, 
there are indications of 
certain vague sugges- 
tions derived from the 
general, though not spe- 
cific, appearances of na- 
ture. But, at the same 
time, the human desire 
for rational regularity 
(see page 94) asserts 
itself so strongly that 
the results are termed 
geometric rather than 
imitative. Notice such 
conventional forms, 

FIG. 216— GREEK IONIC ORDER. , 

slightly sugo-estive 01 
See pages 380, 389. ° J ^^ 

outlines in tropical 

plants, in the pillars of the Indian cave at Elephanta, 




1 




. 


<-J 




vJ 




L 






REPRESENTATION OF MATERIAL SURROUNDINGS. 389 



Fig. 



72, page 317, pillars 



th< 



eneral appearance 



of 



which, as all familiar with the subject know, could be 
duplicated, if necessary, from remains in Assyria and 
Egypt. More important for us to notice is the ornamen- 
tation of the Greek Ionic pillar (Fig. 2 J 6, page 388), which 
was developed later than that of the Doric order as in 
Fig. 2 1 5, page 387. Observe, too, the conventional antefix 
in marble over the centre 
of the front pediment of 
the Greek Doric temple of 
^Egina, Fig. 215, page 387, 
but especially in Fig. 217, 
page 389. Almost every 
Doric temple, however, 
illustrates a fact that must 
always be borne in mind 
when studying architec- 
ture. This is that a style 
continues to be the same 
for years after certain ten- 
dencies derived from it 
have been developed so 
far in some buildings that 
it might be supposed that 
they would have exerted 
an influence upon all build- 
ings. This temple of ^Egi- 

na had features not immediately used elsewhere. Un- 
like the later Theseum (Fig. 14, page 36), over whose 
eaves were forms made in the style of Fig. 217, it 
shows us partly imitative forms there (Fig. 222, page 
393) ; and unlike many other later Doric temples, it 
contains wholly imitative statues in the pediment. But to 
return to the illustrations of conventional forms, notice 




FIQ. 217. 



-ANTEFIX OF MARBLE, TEMPLE 
OF /EQINA. 
See pages 389, 398. 



390 PAINTING, SCULPTURE, AND ARCHITECTURE. 

the capitals on the Romanesque pillars on each side of the 
doorway in Fig. 218, page 390, and on the small pillars in 
the partly Romanesque interior in Fig. 219, page 391 ; also 
on the pillars in the pointed interior, Fig. 3, page 24, as well 
as the whole combination of forms in Fig. 220, page 392, 




FIG. 218.— DOORWAY TROITZKA MONASTERY, RUSSIA. 

See pages 380, 388, 390. 



representing an interior in that early decorated Gothic 
style which preceded the extensive use of such details 
as are illustrated in Fig. 230, page 395, and Fig. 231, 
page 396. 

A little later, as originally used, though often as found 
now, in the same buildings with these conventional forms, 



REPEESEN TA TION OF MA TE RIA L S URR O UN DINGS. 3 9 1 

which long continue to be in vogue, come forms that are 
distinctly imitative. Yet, at first, the imitation is only 
partial. That is, parts of certain natural forms are copied, 
but they are not put together as in nature. This fact is 



&i 



Tfl 




til 




m - 




jajll 




i- 


1 


m 


Ml 






Up** 


^_i : :XZ~-~ — ; -i- :~ ~ '." 



NG. 219.— INTERIOR OF SAN VITALE, RAVENNA. 
See pages 380, 390. 



particularly evident in the representations of living 
figures ; and the principle manifested is so universally 
exemplified among the architects of all civilized countries, 




FIG. 220.— CHOIR OF ELY CATHEDRAL, ENGLAND. 

See pages 78, 380, 390, 405. 

392 



REPRESENTATION OF MATERIAL SURROUNDINGS. 393 



while the particular applications of the principle are so 
different that it seems as if it can only be ascribed to a 




FIQ. 221.— PORTAL AT PERSEPOLIS, 
PERSIA. 

Seepages 393, 398. 



FIG. 222— ACrOTERIUM AND GUTTER, 
TEMPLE OF /EGINA. 

See pages 389, 393, 398. 



natural tendency invariably characterizing a certain stage 

of architectural development. Notice the combination of 

the man, four-footed beast, and bird in the illustration 

from Persian architecture 

in Fig. 22 [, page 393 ; of 

the four-footed beast and 

bird in the Egyptian, Fig. 

223, page 393, of the same 

in the Greek, Fig. 222, 

page 393 ; and of the same 

in the gargoyle, which, as 

produced in Cologne Ca- FIQ . 223 .- EGYP t,a N h.eraco sph.nx. 
thedral, is imitated from a S ee pages 393, 398. 




394 PAINTING, SCULPTURE, AND ARCHITECTURE. 

style common in the earlier Gothic architecture, in Fig. 224, 
page 394. Some, whose attention has never been directed 





FIQ. 224.— GARGOYLE FROM 
CATHEDRAL, COLOGNE. 

See pages 393, 394, 398. 



FIG. 225.-CAPITAL FROM A TOMB 

AT PERSEPOLIS, PERSIA. 

See pages 394, 398. 



to the subject, will probably be surprised to find such 
forms in Greek architecture. Yet there they are. Still 
later than these partially imitated figures, though now, of 

course, often found in the 
same buildings with them, 
come those that are fully im- 
itated. On the border line 





FIG. 226.— GREEK CORINTHIAN CAPITAL. FIG. 227-— TEMPLE AT IPSAMBOOL, EGYPT. 
See pages 380, 387, 396. See pages 396, 398. 

between the two, we can place the Persian capital in Fig. 
225, page 394, the Egyptian lotus-leaf capital in Fig. 10, 





FI3. 228.— CAPITAL AT DEN- 
DERAH, EGYPT. 

See pages 396, 398. 



FIQ. 229.— GIANTS, TEMPLE OF 
AQRIGENTUM. 

See pages 396, 398. 




FIG. 230.— CAPITAL FROM CATHEDRAL AT RHEIMS, FRANCE. 
See pages 390, 396, 398. 



395 



396 PAINTING, SCULPTURE, AND ARCHITECTURE. 



page 34, and the Greek Corinthian capital, developed 
later than either the Doric or Ionic, in Fig. 226, 

page 394. As fully exempli- 
fying this tendency, notice 
the Egytian temple at Ip- 
sambool, Fig. 227, page 394, 
which might be paralleled 
by examples from India and 
Assyria ; the later Egyptian 
capital from Denderah, Fig. 
228, page 395 ; the giants from 
the Greek temple of Zeus at 
Agrigentum, Fig. 229, page 
395, to which might be added 
the well-known caryatides in 
the Erechtheum at Athens, 
not to speak of the figures in 
pediments, and entablatures, 
as illustrated in Figs. 148, 
page 223, and 215, page 388; 
and, finally, the method of 
dealing with forms, which we 
find in the later decorated Gothic, as in the capital and 
the corbel from the cathedral at Rheims, in Fig. 230, page 
395, and Fig. 231, page 396. 




FIG. 231.— CORBEL FROM CATHE- 
DRAL AT RHEIMS, FRANCE. 
See pages 38, 390, 396, 398. 



CHAPTER XXI. 

ARCHITECTURAL REPRESENTATION OF MATERIAL 
SURROUNDINGS CONTINUED. 

The Order of Representative Development in Architecture — Styles Imita- 
ting Appearances in Nature — Testimony of Facts — Applied to Interiors 
and Exteriors — Developments of the Imitative in the other Arts — Pos- 
sibilities of its Development in Architecture New Uses of Metals — 

The Development of the Tendency might not Improve the Art — Would 
Necessitate the Exercise of Genius — What are Valid Arguments against 
such Developments — Sincerity in the Use of Material, Natural Woods, 
etc. — Use of Material Natural to a Locality — Conclusion. 

A S shown in the last chapter, artistic representation in 
architecture begins by reproducing in a compara- 
tively imperishable material, constructions previously 
erected in a perishable one. This representation is made 
accurate, if possible, as in the framework in Fig. 171, page 
315. But often the very character of the differences in- 
volved makes accuracy infeasible if not impossible. The 
Greek temples in Fig. 209, page 375, reproduce such huts 
as are in Fig. 208, page 374, but only suggestively, in 
general outline. Very soon, however, as we have found, 
and very naturally too, the representative tendency thus 
started into activity, manifests its presence by leading, 
usually in the way of ornamentation, to the reproduc- 
tion of other surrounding objects, objects not produced 
by men. At first, these objects are only suggested, 

397 



398 PAINTING, SCULPTURE, AND ARCHITECTURE. 

so that, in seeing them, one merely associates them 
with the natural forms which they resemble. In this 
way, the leaves of certain flowers are suggested, as by 
the capitals in Figs. 10, page 34; n, page 34; and the 
antenx in Fig. 2 1 7, page 389. So too actual living animals 
are suggested, as by the combinations in Figs. 221, page 

393 i 222 > P a g' e 393 ; 22 3> P a g e 393 J 22 4, page 394 ; and 225 
page 394. Later, however, these represented objects are 
actually imitated from objects seen in nature, as in Figs. 
227, page 394; 228, page 395 ; 229, page 395 ; 230, page 
395 ; and 231, page 396. 

If now we suppose that the styles of buildings consid- 
ered as wholes develop in an analogous way, it will lead 
us to infer that after a style has been determined by the 
appearances of huts constructed by the non-artistic man, 
there will come a time when it will be determined by 
appearances not constructed by men but perceived in 
nature ; and that these appearances will be represented at 
first suggestively by way of association, and later imita- 
tively by way of comparison. 

Can this inference thus logically deducible from the 
analogies of the other arts be confirmed by facts ? Why 
can it not ? The simple truth seems to be that the changes 
from the style of building determined by the use of the 
horizontal line, the circular arch, and the pointed arch, 
were not caused merely by the necessities of construction, 
as declared by Helmholtz on page 378, nor merely by the 
appearances of straight, round, or pointed forms in cheaper 
human constructions as intimated on page 384, but also by 
the appearances of similar forms in nature. The exact 
effect given to the nave of a Gothic cathedral cannot 
be attributable merely to a development of methods of 
construction, nor to an imitation of cheaper buildings. It 



REPRESENTATION OF MATERIAL SURROUNDINGS. $$g 

is an indisputable fact that an avenue of trees with bend- 
ing branches invariably suggests to any one who has 
seen it a Gothic nave. Compare Fig. 44, page 85, with 
Fig. 43, page 84. If it does so in our age to the ordi- 
nary observer, why could it not have done so in the 
middle ages to the first Gothic builder? Those who 
deny that it could do this, or who ridicule, as they do, 
the statement that it might, would have difficulty in 
making most men believe that they could recognize 
any conclusion whatever attainable as a result of only 
logic or insight. Notice also Fig. 9, page 33. 

The representation causing us to connect the effect of 
a cathedral nave with that of an avenue of trees is of the 
same character as that which has been shown to be true 
of any representation of natural' objects when first at- 
tempted. We merely associate the nave with the natural 
appearances which it only suggests. It does not compare 
with these in the sense of being an exact imitation. The 
same principle may be exemplified, too, as applied to ex- 
teriors. Notice the general form of the temple in Fig. 
232, page 400, and more minutely the details of the same 
style as enlarged in Fig. 233, page 401. Then look at the 
general effect of the Tissington spires represented in Fig. 
32, page 67, and in connection with doing so, recall, as 
related to the second figure, the detailed effects of rocks 
stratified in layers with which all of us who have ever seen 
cliffs or precipices cannot fail to be familiar. After com- 
paring the art-products with such appearances of nature, 
is it difficult for any one who understands the natural 
workings of the mind to perceive a subtle connection be- 
tween the two ? 

Now, with this thought in mind, turning again to the 
other arts, notice that an increase in the imitation of 



400 PAINTING, SCULPTURE, AND ARCHITECTURE. 

natural appearances in the details has a tendency to in- 
crease the same in the treatment determining the gen- 
eral outlines also. As a rule the general plot, i. e., 




FIG. 232.— TEMPLE AT BUDDHA GAYA INDIA. 
See pages 380, 399. 

the general outline, of a ballad has to do mainly with 
mere events ; the plot of an epic, which comes later. 




FIQ. 233.— TEMPLE AT MUKTESWARA, INDIA. 

See pages 380, 399. 

401 



26 



402 PAINTING, SCULPTURE, AND ARCHITECTURE. 

with details concerning the persons engaged in these 
events ; the plot of a drama, which comes still later, 
with additional details representing the characters of these 
persons ; and the plot of a descriptive — as distinguished 
from a narrative — -poem, which comes yet more late, 
with added details representing their natural surround- 
ings. So in music. Only in later compositions, as in the 
oratorios of Haydn, or the operas of Wagner, is the plot 
unfolded by so analogous or imitative a use of harmony 
that the melody is reduced to recitative. So too in paint- 
ing and sculpture. A reproduction of the general outlines 
of form, as by the painters of the middle ages, was once 
considered all that was necessary. Now there are schools 
of criticism whose sole applied test of excellence seems to 
be accuracy in the delineation of the minutiae of appear- 
ance. 

Taken together, the facts indicated in the last few pages 
cannot fail to suggest to a logical mind the question 
whether, as in the cases of the other arts, there may not 
be developed in architecture, too, a style in which this 
representation, as applied not only to details but to gen- 
eral effects shall be more imitative than at present. This 
question was asked in " Art in Theory " ; and, as it seemed 
to present a new idea to certain critics, it was only what 
was to be expected from human nature, perhaps, for them 
to display a certain lack of integrity, intelligence, and in- 
sight in the way in which they greeted it. The lack of 
integrity was shown in the question's being quoted out of 
its connection, in such a way as to be made to appear an 
expression of strong affirmation and advocacy, whereas it 
was merely, as it is here, an inquiry suggested by way of 
logical inference. The lack of intelligence was shown in 
the ignorance displayed of the way in which all architec- 



REPRESENTATION OF MATERIAL SURROUNDINGS. 403 

ture starts, as indicated on page 316, as well as the way in 
which it develops, as indicated on page 397 ; and the lack 
of insight was shown in the failure to recall the beauty 
imparted to almost any natural appearance whatever, 
when reproduced in material like marble or bronze, which 
is more costly and difficult to work. If a man, for in- 
stance, who has seen the exquisite effects produced by 
marble carvings of bark and leaves, will look at Fig. 44, 
page 85, which is a reproduction of a scene not prepared 
for this volume, he will recognize that it is by no means 
an idle question to inquire whether some future architect 
may not conceive that columns and ceilings imitating these 
tree-trunks and leaves may be made more artistically beau- 
tiful than any possible modification of our present Gothic 
columns or such conventional groinings of the ceiling as 
may be noticed, for instance, in Fig. 234, page 404. Or 
look again at Fig. 175, page 325. What would a man be 
doing who should reproduce effects like this on the ex- 
terior of a stone building, but carrying out the first 
principles of architecture as manifested in the reproduc- 
tion of the framework in front of the cave represented in 
Fig- 171, Page 315? 

Another consideration, too, is important here. Our age 
is characterized by a far wider use than ever before of 
metals. What can we find to do with our iron, copper, 
aluminium, and especially silver, is becoming a very prac- 
tical question. Now, if bronze be appropriate for the 
representations of sculpture, why should not metal of 
some similar character be appropriate for the uses of 
architecture — not only as suggested on page 330, but still 
more extensively ? Other things considered, who would 
not prefer to sit in a theatre the galleries and pillars of 
which in no possible circumstances could be burned ? 



404 PAINTING, SCULPTURE, AND ARCHITECTURE. 

And who that is acquainted with the possibilities for ar- 
tistic representation in metal of this character can deny 
the opportunities afforded by it ? 

It must be acknowledged, indeed, that, even supposing 
such attempts in stone or metal could be successful, it 
does not follow that architecture would necessarily be im- 




FIQ. 234.— AISLE OF HENRY VII. 'S CHAPEL, WESTMINSTER ABBEY, ENGLAND. 
See pages 380, 403, 405. 



proved by them. In the estimation of the majority of 
critics, the ornamental Greek architecture of the Corin- 
thian or composite styles does not rank as high as the 
plainer and earlier Doric ; nor the decorated or the florid 
Gothic as high as the plainer and earlier pointed style. 



REPRESENTATION OF MATERIAL SURROUNDINGS. 405 

Compare the latter as in Figs. 41, page 81, and 43, page 
84, with the former as in Figs. 144, page 205 ; 220, page 
392 ; and 234, page 404. It must be acknowledged, too, 
that massiveness of effect, which is the chief characteris- 
tic imparting impressiveness and dignity to very large 
buildings, necessitates a predominating use of simple 
forms and straight lines, with which the kind of imitative 
representation of which we have been speaking might 
seriously interfere. See pages 66, 76, and 87. But to 
acknowledge these facts is not to prove inconceivable a 
method of development which the analogy of the other 
arts shows to be among the logical possibilities of archi- 
tecture ; nor even to prove that all attempts to carry out 
these possibilities would be unsuccessful. As applied to 
smaller buildings, no more minute attention to the details 
of carving would be needed in order to manifest imitative 
representation, than can now be seen in the famous Ros- 
lyn Chapel of Scotland ; and, whether really constructed 
of metal or not, the galleries of the Grand Opera House 
of Paris are certainly made to look as if they were. 

Of course, it is to be understood that, especially at the 
beginning of attempts of the kind indicated, it would re- 
quire superlative ability, probably genius of the highest 
order, to produce anything that would not appear con- 
fused and, in the worst sense of the term, inartistic. But 
is a genius of the highest order impossible in our day ? If 
not, why might he not make as great advances in archi- 
tecture as Wagner has made in music, and that, too, in 
exactly the same direction ? Throughout these essays it 
has been maintained that, under all the arts, are certain 
principles that successful products need to exemplify. As 
applied to building, for instance, it is not because the 
Gothic artist did not mix horizontal with arched coverings 



406 PAINTING, SCULPTURE, AND ARCHITECTURE. 

for windows that it should not be done to-day. Our artists 
should be actuated by a higher motive than imitation. 
What they should avoid is a violation of the principle 
exemplified by the Gothic builders, which principle is to 
put, wherever it is possible, like with like. It was pointed 
out in Chapter XVII. of " The Genesis of Art-Form " that 
in strict accordance with this principle, as it is applied in 
all the other arts, there might be a legitimate style in which, 
from the lower story up, the acuteness of the arches in 
each story would be gradually increased ; also, that in 
these days of easy and extensive methods of transporta- 
tion, there might be a legitimate style, in which, through 
the use of stones or of other materials of different hues, the 
effects of harmonious coloring could be produced, even on 
exteriors ; and here again other ways are pointed out 
through which, as by a further use of metal and of imita- 
tive representation, other legitimate styles might be ren- 
dered possible. 

It is acknowledged that these and other suggestions 
like them tend to encourage architectural methods that 
are not conventional, traditional, nor even conservative. 
But merely because this is the case, the author does not 
propose to apologize for them. All the suggestions have 
been in line with the development of this art in accordance 
with its own germinal nature. That it might require 
genius to originate a successful practical expression of 
them, is no argument against them. The only valid 
arguments that can be urged against any form of criticism 
must be connected in some way with a proof that it is 
destructive and not constructive ; or that, if it be the 
latter, it becomes so by pointing to imitation and not to 
invention ; or, if to invention, only to methods of it which 
necessitate a departure from the first principles of the 
art rather than a development of them. 



REPRESENTATION OF MATERIAL SURROUNDINGS. 407 

Before leaving this subject of imitative representation 
in architecture, it is well to notice one or two other facts. 
By recurring again to the method of construction in Figs. 
171, page 315 ; 172, page 317 ; and 209, page 375, it will 
be recognized that the artistic interest in them is owing 
to the fact that a material less difficult to work is repre- 
sented in a material more difficult to work ; in other 
words, that a wooden original is imitated in stone. It is 
largely because of the skill needed in order to produce 
the imitation in this latter material, that it fulfils both of 
the requirements of art, in that it represents equally the 
artist himself and the external appearance which he re- 
calls. For this reason, this fact of representing a material 
less difficult to work in material which is more difficult, is 
usually considered essential to the highest artistic success. 
While it is deemed appropriate, for instance, to make a 
stone building represent, as in the case of the Greek tem- 
ple, noticed on page 376, a wooden building, it is not 
deemed so to make a wooden building represent a stone 
one, or to make a wooden balustrade look like a brass 
one, or stamped paper look like bronze. This conception 
is the one that has led to the use of the term sincerity. 
The term indicates one's conception that the artist has 
employed material which really is what it seems to be, — 
wood, if it seem wood ; stone, if it seem stone ; iron, if 
it seem iron. Sincerity even discards, at times* the use 
of paint, on the ground that it conceals the genuine sub- 
stance. So, too, owing in part also to the intrinsic beauty 
of the graining of almost any kind of wood, the same prin- 
ciple has led to a method of finishing this so as to reveal 
its natural character. It is useless to do more than point 
out that, as illustrated in all these cases, sincerity is merely 
one way of applying the broader general principle that 
architecture should represent nature. 



408 PA IN TING, SCULPT UPE, A ND A R CHI TECT URE. 

Another application of the same principle is found in 
the way in which, not without reason, certain critics insist 
that in choosing the material for the construction of a 
building, preference should be given to that which is 
natural to the district in which the building is to stand. 
They say, for instance, that in red sandstone districts it 
should be built of red sandstone ; in a gray granite dis- 
trict, of gray granite; or in forests intended to be left in 
a rustic state, of logs left in a rustic state, somewhat as in 
Fig- 175, P a g e 3 2 5- The idea is that a building thus con- 
structed will appear to be a part of the surrounding land- 
scape, harmonizing with it in color, and, upon a nearer 
inspection, in material also. There is undoubtedly much 
in this, as applied to a country residence. But, evidently, 
all the truth that is in it, is there because it involves one 
more way of making architecture represent nature. 

The purpose of this essay is now fulfilled. There are 
innumerable other ways, of course, which cannot be men- 
tioned here, in which the principle of representation can 
be applied not only in architecture, but in painting and 
sculpture. All these ways, however, must, in some re- 
gards, conform to the methods here indicated. The 
important matter is to have the general truth with refer- 
ence to the subject understood and accepted. In practical 
life there is little trouble about conduct, in case a man 
starts with correct moral principles. In art-work there is 
an almost equal diminution of trouble, in case he starts 
with correct aesthetic principles. 



INDEX 



In a few cases, the subjects below are treated on the pages indicated merely through 
reference by number to the figure illustrating them. 



Abdomen, as representative, no, 
116, 123, 142, 162 ; Discomfort 
in, 142, 162. 

Abnormal. See Normal. 

Abruptness, 55. See Gradation. 

Academic Line versus naturalistic, 
294-296. 

Academy of Music, Philadelphia, 
205. 

Accent of voice and line, 16, 17, 18, 
39. 4 1 . 57, 59- ^ ee Light and 
Shade. 

Acceptance as expressed in counte- 
nance, 1S6. 

Acropolis, Athens, 375, 376, 380, 
386, 387, 397, 407. 

Acroterium and Gutter, yEgina, 

389, 393, 398. 
Activity, represented by length, 108 ; 

Lines illustrating, 62, 64, 72, 145. 

See Motive Temperament. 
Adding Insult to Injury, picture, 

151, 152, 156, 263. 
Adoration of the Magi, picture, 72, 

73, 174, 248, 263, 276. 
/Egina, Temple of, 380, 387, 389, 

393, 39 6 - 398. 
Aerial perspective, 206, 307-309. 
.Esthetic, 2 ; effects in buildings, 

86, 341, 363, 364, 366. 
/Esthetically, 323. 
Affectation, Anglo-Saxon, 234. 
Africa, Hottentot Krall in, 80, 377, 

379, 384 ; Kaffir Station in, 377, 

378, 381, 3S4 ; Negro Huts in, 

80, 378, 383. 384. 
Age of Reformation, 248. 



Aggressive movements, 168, 169, 171. 
Aggrieved look in countenance, 177. 
Agrigentum, Giants of Temple of, 

.395, 396, 398. 
Aim, Elevation of, as represented in 

outline, 68 ; determining rank of 

art-work, 259, 260. 
Alexander, 108. 
Allegorical, painting, 248, 272, 273 ; 

sculpture, 286. 
Amazement expressed in counte- 
nance, 184. 
Ambition expressed in countenance, 

173, 174, 186. 
American, accent, ix., x. ; church, 

327, 328, 330, 355 ; painters, 292 ; 

streets, 334, 360, 361, 364, 380 ; 

type of face, 101. 
Amiable suspicion expressed in 

countenance, 171, 177. 
Antefix of Marble, yEgina, 389, 398. 
Ananias, Death of, picture, 61, 62, 

77, 79, J 37, 138, 140, 145, 147, 
156, 158, 161, 167, 170, 177, 178, 
226, 287. 

Ancient Mariner, The, 244. 

Angelo, M., 47, 50, 75, 298, 301, 
302. 

Angles, [7; representation by, 21, 
85-87, 89, 90. 

Angular, Representation by, argu- 
mentative movements, 62, 134, 

135. 

Angularity of shape as representa- 
tive, 55-87, 89. 

Animal painting and significance, 
262, 263. 



409 



4IO PAINTING, SCUIPTURE, AND ARCHITECTURE. 



Apollo Belvedere, 62, 138, 147, 149, 
151, 224, 281 ; Sauroctonos, 48, 
49, 61, 76, 136, 223, 281 ; Stro- 
ganoff, 224. 

Appearances, Natural, in Architec- 
ture, 2, 32, 78-87, 312-321, 372- 
408 ; in art, 2, 4, 6 ; in metaphor 
and simile, 243, 244 ; in painting, 
63-78, 226-236, 291-310 ; in 
building material for a locality, 
408 ; in colors and dyes, 198 ; 
how representing thought, 3, 
63-78. 

Apprehension represented in color, 
207, 208. 

Apprehensive, The, expressed in 
countenance, with astonishment, 
179, 185-190 ; with attention, 
I 73> x 75 5 Wltn gnef, 173, 183, 
184, 187. 

Arch, Arches, 8, 327 ; representative 
of nature, 32, 82, 84, 86, 379-384, 
398, 399, 403 ; round and pointed, 
378 ; causing styles, 78, 380-385. 

Architectural features, Development 
of, 52, 318, 319, 323, 333, 344, 
360, 380. 

Architecture and Painting, Lectures 
on, 86. 

Architecture, appealing to emotions, 
78, 86, 87 ; as memorial and monu- 
mental, 356, 357 ; as representative 
of dignity, 332, 356, 366, 405 ; of 
man and nature, 316, 317, 320, 321, 
371, 374; of material or natural 
surroundings, 2, 32, 78-87, 312- 
321, 372-408 ; of mind, 28-38, 
322-371 ; of mind and nature, 
28-38, 41 ; of strength or weak- 
ness, 32, 39, 42, 52, 54, 355, 405 ; 
of thoughts and emotions, 321 ; 
begins earlier and develops later 
than painting and sculpture, 313; 
cheap ornamentation in, 355, 
357, 37 1 ; color in, 203-207, 263, 
406 ; compared with music, 28-32, 
311-314, 373 ; contrasted with 
poetry, painting, and sculpture, 
28-33, 311-314, 373; conven- 
tional, 388, 406 ; developed from 
cave decoration, 315-317 ; from 
hut- and tent-building, 373-378 ; 



from imitating wood in stone, 
315-317, 375, 376, 378, 407, 408 ; 
from picturesque and statuesque 
conception, 314, 316 ; from re- 
quirements of construction, 379- 
384 ; fundamental principle in, 
406; handling in, 51-54; imita- 
tion in, 312-318, 372-378 ; lines 
in, 78-87 ; originality in, 406 ; 
rank of styles in, 404, 405 ; regu- 
larity in, 95 ; representation in, 
311-321 ; representation of lines 
in, 78-87 ; shadows in, 52, 54 ; 
sky-line in, 362-371 ; street, 362- 
371 ; styles, 78, 367, 379-384 ; uni- 
formity in color, 363 ; variety 
of color, 406. See Corinthian, 
Davidian, Doric, Egyptian, 
Gothic, Greco-Roman, Greek, 
Ionic, Romanesque. 

Arms, as bent in gestures, 138, 140; 
as expressive, 123, 148-164. 

Arrangement, 76. 

Arrogance as expressed in counte- 
nance, 100. 

Art, and Nature, different, 257 ; and 
writing, separated in Egypt, 221, 
in Greece, 222. 

Art for Art's Sake, the book, 292 ; 
the principle, 291. 

Art-Idea, book, 282. 

Art in Theory, book, iii., v., viii., 
1, 3, 10, 11, 13, 23, 26, 30, IOI, 
205, 216, 217, 228, 237, 240, 245, 
288, 291, 314, 317, 354, 356, 372, 
402, 

Artist as represented, in animal 
painting, 262, 263 ; in architec- 
ture, 316, 317, 320; in fruit paint- 
ing, 257 ; in landscapes, 259-262 ; 
in portraits, 268, 269, in sculp- 
ture, 266, 267 ; in symbolic paint- 
ing, 272. 

Artist's point of view should be 
understood, 292. 

Art, its Laws and Reasons for them, 
book, 76, 266. 

Arts, as derived from human forms 
of expression, 23. 

Aspiration as represented by upward 
lines and length of body, 68, 73, 
74, 84, 108. 



INDEX. 



411 



Association, representation by, 4— 
13, IS, 27, 28, 32, 37, 51, 214, 
335, 3S6, 3SS, 398, 399 ; as an 
element of beauty, 26 ; as con- 
trasted with comparison in repre- 
sentation, 4-9, 3S5-402 ; in archi- 
tecture, 385, 3S6, 3SS, 398, 399. 

Assumption, The, 46. 

Assyrian architecture, 3S6, 396. 

Astonished horror as expressed in 
countenance, 185, 1S6, 1S8. 

Astonishment, 179, 185, 190 ; and 
attention, 1S7, 189. 

Athena of the Capitol, 76, 224, 2S1. 

Attack, An, expressed in pose, 62, 
65, 145, 167, 171. 

Attention, as expressed in counte- 
nance, with astonishment, 1S6, 
187 ; apprehensive, 173, 175 ; 
thoughtful, 172, 187, 190 ; uncon- 
fiding, 167, 169, 175, 176, 178, 
185 ; unconvinced, 167, 169, 175, 
176, 178, 185, 186, 187. 

Audible representation, 3, 14-23. 

Audience Hall, 336. 

Aurora, picture, 71, 72, 81, 136, 
265, 272. 

Australian, chiefs' houses, 80, 374- 
376, 386, 397; University at Sid- 
ney, 84, 324, 349, 351, 352, 355, 
359. 360, 362, 369, 380. 

Author and Critics, picture, 62, 63, 
151, 152, 156, 172, 173, 177- 

Avenue of Palms at Rio, 32, 73, 84, 

85, 399, 403- 
Awe, as represented in color, 208, 

209. 
Awkward pose, 61, 133. 

Bacchus, early dignity of, 225. 

Background, 28, 38. 

Backward Movement, 129, 148-164, 

167, 175-180. 
Balance, the art method, 93, 95, 170; 

in face, 99. 
Balustrade, as representative of a 

flat roof, 360, 362. 
Baptistry of Florence, Relief on, 

247, 248, 286, 302. 
Barnes, A., 115, 117, 118, 124, 182. 
Barry, 50, 77. 
Barton, B., 46, 73, 74. 



Barye, 302. 

Battle, colors in, 200, 210. 

Baudelaire, vii. 

Bay window, 327. 

Beardsley, A., 236. 

Beauty, association an element of, 
26 ; definition of, 26 ; in human 
shape, 26 ; in countenance, 97, 
103 ; its connection with regu- 
larity, 97-103. 

Bedford Building, Boston, 323, 370, 
37i,. 380. 

Bedouin, x. 

Beggar Boys, picture, 202. 

Belfry as representative, 357. 

Bellini, 46. 

Benediction, as representative, 161. 

Berlin, Schiller Platz, 354, 357, 380 ; 
Unter den Linden, 344, 360, 364. 

Beverley Minster, 32, 82, 84, 380, 
388, 399, 405- 

Black, 207-210 ; marble, 203. 

Blake, 301. 

Blanc, C, 46, 73, 74, 292. 

Blue, 195, 197, 198, 200, 209, 210, 
220. 

Blue Boy, The, 264. 

Blue veins, 202. 

Body, Human, as representing emo- 
tion and thought, 60-62, 106-292; 
excitability, 108, 112 ; discomfort, 
142, 162 ; gracefulness, 61, 133 ; 
matter under control of mind, 105, 
106 ; mind under constraint, 61, 
133 ; persistence, 112, 114, 122 ; 
persuasion, 62 ; reflection, 126- 
137, 142-149, 156, 162, 167, 191; 
rejection, 158 ; repose, 43, 44 ; 
self-consciousness, 61 ; surprise, 
130, 163, 171 ; threatening, 62, 
65, 145, 167, 171, 173, 183 ; un- 
consciousness, 61, 133 ; uncon- 
strained, the, 30, 311-314; by 
length, 62, 108, 109, 113, 138, 145, 
152 ; by movement, aggressive, 
backward, awkward, graceful, 
etc., 61, 62, 108, 132-189; by 
shape, 106-124 ; by size, 168 ; 
representative effects of parts of 
the body, 123, 124, 142 ; i. c, ab- 
domen, no, 116, 123, 142, 162 ; 
breast, 127, 128, 142, 148 ; elbows, 



412 PAINTING, SCULPTURE, AND ARCHITECTURE. 



133; extremities, 111-113, 123; 
eyebrows, 98, 100, 112, 119, 172, 
181, 184, 185, 187, 188; eyes, 

115, 121, 124, 166, 168, 170-190; 
feet, 112, 123, 130, 134, 145, 146, 

155, 156 ; fingers, 151, 155- 
163 ; forehead, 98, 99, 102, 119, 
120, 124, 129, 156, 168, 169, 
171, 182, 184, 188 ; hand, x, xi, 
112, J55-161 ; head, 147-166 ; 
hips, 123, 138, 142, 143, 147 ; jaw, 

116, 124, 167; knee, 145, 146; 
legs, 123, 145, 146 ; limbs, 21, 24, 
25 ; mouth, 112, 115-118, 181-185, 
189 ; nose and nostrils, 98-102, 
112, 120, 121, 124, 129, 181, 1 83— 
185, 188, 189 ; palm, 123, 124, 

156, 161, 181 ; shoulders, 123, 
148 ; torso, no, 123, 126, 142, 
144, 146, 147 ; temperaments and 
shapes of , 108-114. See Counte- 
nance. 

Bol, 272. 

Bonaparte, 115-120, 124, 169, 177, 

179- 
Book of the Dead, 222. 
Borderland, 237. 
Boulevard St. Michael, 84, 344, 345, 

363, 364. 
Boy Surprised, 130, 163, 171. 
Breadth, representative of vitality in 

the hand, 120-122 ; face, 115, Ti6; 

form, 108-114 ; movement, 15 1 ; 

as in facial expression, 181 ; in 

the fist, 155. 
Breast, as expressive, 127, 128, 142, 

148. 
Breton, J., 202, 307. 
Bright colors, 22, 195-212 ; light, 

199, 202. 
Bronze, 203, 403. 
Brow, as expressive, eye-, 171, 173, 

174, 177, 179 ; forehead, 156. 
Brown, M. T., 107. 
Browning, 58. 

Buddha Gaya Temple, 380, 399, 400. 
Building, as expressive of thought, 

337. See Architecture. 
Buoyant, The, as represented by 

curves, 65, 74. 
Buttresses, 323, 342, 349. 
Byron, 284. 



Byzantine, 36, 78. 

Cabanel, 295. 

Cain, statue, 156-158, 174, 281. 

Callimachus, 387. 

Calmness, as expressed in counte- 
nance, 189. 

Canova, 50, 286. 

Cantilever Bridge, as representative 
of reflection, 20. 

Capital, of column, 386, 387 ; at 
Denderah, 395, 396, 398 ; com- 
posite, 380 ; Corinthian, 32, 34, 
380, 387, 390, 394, 398 ; Doric, 
380, 387-389 ; Egyptian, 32, 34, 

394, 398 ; Ionic, 380, 388, 389 ; 
from Cathedral at Rheims, 3go, 

395. 39°> 398 ; from Persepolis, 
Persia, 394, 398 ; Gothic, 390 ; 
Romanesque, 390. 

Caractacus, 57, 270. 

Caravaggio, 169, 271. 

Card Players, picture, 169, 172, 270, 
271. 

Carving, earliest, 215, 216. 

Castellated, 360, 361. 

Castle, Mediaeval, 360. 

Cathedral, Cologne, 35, 52, 78, 81, 
82, 84, 86, 323, 380, 405 ; color 
in a, 203, 204 ; Ely, 78, 380, 390, 
392, 405 ; Gothic, 382 ; New York, 
204 ; Proposed, 334, 335, 378, 380; 
San Vitaie, 380, 390, 391 ; St. 
Isaac's, 34-36, 38, 42, 52, 78, 82, 
35 2 . 353, 356, 380; St. Mark's, 
36-38, 42, 52, 78, 82, 86, 380 ; St. 
Sophia, 78, 80, 82, 86, 380 ; Wells, 
203, 205, 380, 405. 

Cave, Primitive architectural decora- 
tion of, 315-317. 374-376, 387, 
388 ; of Elephanta, 315, 316, 375, 

376, 389. 397, 403, 407. 
Ceiling, 207, 209, 327-331. 
Central-Point, 90. 
Century Company, 236. 
Cerebro-spinal nerves, 114, 127. 
Chancel, 336. 

Chapel, Henry VII., 380, 403-405. 
Chase, 308. 
Cheap, architectural ornamentation, 

355-357, 371, 407; in spires or 

pinnacles, 355-357, 371- 



INDEX. 



413 



Cheeks, as expressive, igi. 

Chenonceau Chateau, 346-348, 352, 
37S. 

Chest, as expressive, 114. See 
Breast. 

Chiaroscuro, 17. See Light and 
Shade. 

Chicago, Columbian Exhibition, 84, 
270 ; Court of Honor, etc., 363— 
365, 3S0 ; Douglas Park Univer- 
sity. 337 ; University of, 367-380. 

Chierici, G., 152. 

Childe Harold, 2S4. 

Chin, as expressive, 98, 102, 112, 
118, 129, 156, 168, 171-176, 179. 

China, Art of, 232, 236. 

Chinese, 218 ; palace at Pekin, 376, 

377- 
Chodowieck, 1)., 61. 
Christianity, Early, and Art, 226. 
Church, 336, 357 ; American, 327, 

32S, 330, 355 ; color in, 203, 204; 

support and decoration of roof and 

ceiling, 329, 330, 332, 334. 
Circle, as representative, 89, 90, 97. 
Circular, 92. See Curves. 
Classic Line, 294-296. 
Claude, 260, 26 r. 
Climax, Rhetorical, 55. 
Clock tower, as representative, 357. 
Closing Gesture, correlated as made 

with hands to facial expression, 

182, 183, 185 ; downward, 134, 

136, 156, 158-160 ; ringer, 134, 

136, 156, 158-160 ; form of, 140; 

sideward, 130, 132, 140, 156-158 ; 

upward, 130, 132, 145, 152, 156- 

161. 
Cold colors as representative, 195- 

212. 
Coleridge, 44. 

Colleges, Architecture in, 345, 357. 
Collier, 218. 
Cologne Cathedral, 35, 52, 78, 8r, 

82, 84, 86, 233, 3S0, 405 ; gargoyle 

^ on , 393, 394. 39 8 - 

Color, 18, 19, 22, 95 ; as representa- 
tive of mental conceptions, 192- 
212 ; of material surroundings, 
300-310 ; of various definite ideas, 
like apprehension, 207, 20S ; awe, 
208, 209 ; cosiness, 207 ; delicacy, 



203 ; depression, 194 ; dignity, 199, 
202, 203 ; distance and nearnesss, 
206, 207, 294, 295, 307-309 ; ex- 
hilaration, 210 ; gayety, 199, 204 ; 
ghastliness, 209, 211 ; grandeur, 
202, 207 ; grossness, 202 ; horror, 
208, 209 ; hostility, 208 ; joyous- 
ness, 204 ; largeness, 207 ; life, 
198, 309 ; massiveness, 206 ; move- 
ment, 309 ; nature, 197, 198 ; per- 
plexity, 194, 208 ; refinement, 203 ; 
seriousness, 199, 202, 203 ; ten- 
derness, 306, 307 ; correlated to 
sound, 195-198, 201 ; effects of, in 
countenance, 202, 211 ; in aerial 
perspective, 206, 307, 308 ; in 
architecture, 203-207, 363, 406 ; 
in early painting, 302, 303 ; in 
nature, 291-310 ; in sculpture, 203, 
280 ; natural and man-made, 198 ; 
related to light and shade, 14, 
193-195 ; representative effects of 
black, 207-210 ; bright, 22, 195- 
212 ; bright and warm, 195, T96 ; 
cold, 195-212 ; contrast of, 199, 
202, 207-209, 294, 296, 298, 304, 
306, 308 ; dark, 22, 195-212 ; dark 
and cold, 195, 196 ; gray, 200, 203, 
207; green, 195-198, 209, 210; 
mixed, 207-211 ; orange, 195, 197, 
198, 209, 210 ; red, 195, 197, 198, 
200, 201, 209, 210; white, 203, 
204, 207, 210, 211 ; yellow, 195, 
197, 198, 200, 210, 220. 

Color Exhibition, Cover of Water, 
232, 233. 

Columbia College, 367. 

Columbian Exhibition. See Chicago. 

Columns, 8, 9, 26, 32, 86, 403. See 
Pillars. 

Comic facial effects, 190, 191. 

Comin' thro' the Rye, ix. 

Communication, 186 ; not the end of 
art, 216-221. 

Comparison, representation by, 4, 
6-13, 28, 32, 37, 214, 385, 386, 
398 ; contrasted with association 
in representation, 4-9, 3S5-402 ; 
in architecture, 385, 386, 398 ; re- 
lation to imitation, 6, 8, 9, 13. 

Complex, 68, 82. 

( Complicated, 68. 



414 Painting, sculpture, and architecture. 



Composite capital, 380 ; style, rank 
of, 404. 

Compound stress, in elocution, 16. 

Concentration of thought as ex- 
pressed in the countenance, 188. 

Conceptions, Mental, as represented 
in art, 226 ; in architecture, 28-38, 
41, 322-371 ; in painting and sculp- 
ture, 226, 239-279, 286-290. See 
Mental, Mentality, Mind. 

Confidence, as expressed in counte- 
nance, 172, 173 ; satisfied, 177. 

Constrained, 61, 133. 

Constructive idea, as representative, 
322, 323, 326, 327, 336 ; in archi- 
tecture, 322-334. 

Contempt as expressed in counte- 
nance, 100, 177. 

Contempt and Discontent as ex- 
pressed in countenance, 121, 183, 
185, 188, 190. 

Contemptuous Rage as expressed in 
countenance, 175, 176, 178, 181, 
182, 183, 186, 189. 

Contour, 98. 

Contrast, Effect of distance on, 91, 
206, 294, 296-298, 304, 306, 308 ; 
of color, 199, 202, 207-209, 294, 
296, 298, 304, 306, 308. 

Contrition as expressed in counte- 
nance, 186. 

Conventional, architecture, 406 ; as 
significant, 212 ; shapes, 226, 388, 

39°. 
Conventionalism, 222, 225. 
Convex, 77. 
Corbel from Cathedral of Rheims, 

38, 390, 396, 398. 
Corinthian, Capital, 32, 34, 380, 387, 

390, 394, 398 ; style, rank of, 

404. 
Cornice, 349, 360. 
Corot, 259, 295, 296, 301. 
Correspondence, Principle of, 4, 99, 

113. 

Costly material in architecture should 
represent less costly, 375—377, 407. 

Cottage and Domestic Architecture, 
Old, book, 337. 

Cottages as representative, 54, 337- 
342, 358, 359- 

Countenance, beauty of, 97-103 ; 



color effects in, 201, 211 ; indi- 
viduality necessary in, 103 ; regu- 
larity of, 101-104 ; representation 
in, of acceptance, 186 ; amaze- 
ment, 184; ambition, 173, 174, 
186; amiable suspicion, 171, 177; 
apprehensive astonishment, 179, 
185-190 ; apprehensive attention, 
I 73» 175 ; apprehensive grief, 173, 

183, 184, 187, 190 ; arrogance, 
100 ; astonished horror, 185, 186, 

188 ; astonishment, 179, 185, 190 ; 
attention with astonishment, 186, 
187 ; with apprehension, 173, 175 ; 
thoughtful, 172, 187, 190 ; uncon- 
fiding, 167, 169, 175, 176, 178, 
185 ; unconvinced, 167, 169, 175, 
176, 178, 185-187 ; of being 
aggrieved, 177 ; calmness, 189 ; 
concentration of thought, 188 ; 
confidence, 172, 173, 177 ; con- 
tempt, 100, 177 ; with discontent, 
121, 183, 185, 188, 190; con- 
temptuous rage, 175, 176, 178, 
181, 182, 183, 186, 189 ; credulity, 
167, 168, 171, 174; crying, 184; 
curiosity, 183, 184, 187 ; disap- 
pointed desire, 174, 175, 184, 185, 
186; despair, 175, 176, 185 ; dis- 
content, 121, 183, 185, 188 ; dis- 
dain, 189 ; displeasure, 183 ; doubt, 
172 ; eagerness, 169 ; egotism, 177 ; 
expectancy, 187 ; faith, 178, 179 ; 
faith, hope, and love, 147-149, 
151, 162, 169 ; fear, 178, 185, 186, 

188, 190 ; fear and rage, 174, 181, 

184, 186, 189 ; force, 171 ; fright, 

173, 177, 189 ; gravity, 183 ; ha- 
tred, 100; hopelessness, 173, 174, 
186; horror, 175, 185, 186, 188; 
impudence, 167, 177, 178 ; inter- 
rogation, 171, 172 ; laughter and 
gayety, 100, 183, 184, 185, 187, 

189, 191 ; malice, 100, 177, 185 ; 
perplexity, 172, 173 ; pride, 100 ; 
(unconfiding), 167, 176, 177 ; ques- 
tioning, 171, 172 ; rage and fear, 

174, 175, 181 ; religious rapture, 
174, 175, 179 ; reflection, 182, 184- 
186, 188 ; rejection, 183, 189 ; 
rapture, 174, 175, 179; sadness, 

189 ; scheming, 171 ; scolding, 100 ; 



INDEX. 



415 



seriousness, igg, 202, 203 ; smil- 
ing, 100, 183, 1S4 ; sneer, 100; 
solicitude, 186 ; sorrow, 173 ; stub- 
bornness, 176 ; submission, 174 ; 
superiority, 17S ; surprise, 171, 
175, 186, 187 ; suspicion, amiable, 
171, 186; terror, 173, 183-186, 
188 ; threatening, 62, 65, 145, 167, 
171, 173, 1S3 ; triumph, 179 ; un- 
amiable suspicion, 171, 177 ; un- 
confiding pride, 167, 176, 177. 

Court of Honor. See Chicago. 

Crane, W., 41, 43, 45, 64, 69, 293. 

Credulity as expressed in counte- 
nance, 167, 168, 171, 174. 

Criticism, constructive and destruc- 
tive, 406 ; valid arguments against 
a system of, 406, 407. 

Crucifixion, The, 202. 

Crving as expressed in countenance, 
184. 

Cupola, 331, 332, 355, 357. 

Curiosity as expressed in counte- 
nance, 183, 184, 187. 

Curvature of contour, 93. 

Curves, compound, in pose and ges- 
ture, 138, 140 ; representative, 17, 
21, 55-87, 90, no; of buoyancy, 
65, 74 ; freedom, 61, 65 ; 103 ; 
grace, 61, 133 ; growth, 82, 87 ; 
nature, 80, 82. 

Dancing Movements, 130, 135, 136, 

142. 
Dante, vi, 209. 
Dark colors, 22, 195-212 ; and cold, 

195, 196. 
Darwin, 107. 
Daubigny, 301, 308. 
Davidian Architecture, 380. 
Da Vinci, 46. 
Decamps, 308. 
Decorated Gothic, 380, 390 ; rank 

of, 405. 
Decorative Art, 212. 
Degeneration, vi. 
Delicacy, representation of, 44. 
Delivery of Keys to St. Peter, 77. 
Delphi, 224. 

Delsarte, 128, 130, 131, 133, 142. 
De' Medici, Giuliano Tomb of, 50, 

301, 302. 



De Mortillet, A. and G., 215. 

Denderah, Capital at, 395, 396, 398. 

Denner, B., 226, 307. 

Depression as represented in color, 
194. 

Descent from the Cross, The, 202, 
276, 277, 287. 

Descriptive gesture, closing, 156- 
162 ; opening, 138, 151, 159, 160; 
poetry, 246. 

Desire, disappointed, as expressed 
in countenance, 174, 175, 184-186. 

Despair as expressed in countenance, 
175, 176, 185. 

Destruction of Jerusalem, 248, 250, 
265, 272. 

De Superville's Diagrams, 189. 

Detaille, 272, 275. 

Details, effects of distance on, 91 
206, 294, 296, 298, 304, 306, 308 
growth of imitation of, 385-402 
in all the arts, 385, 386, 399-401 
in architecture, 385—402 ; shape 
of hand indicating attention to, 
122. 

Diagrams of Duval, 191 ; of De 
Superville, 189. 

Diana a la Biche, 224. 

Dias, 301. 

Dignified as expressed in outline, 
37, 73, 112, 114. 

Dignity, 37, 66, 82, 149 ; in archi- 
tecture, 332, 356, 366 ; in color, 
199, 202, 203. 

Dignity and Impudence, 262, 263. 

Direction of Lines, 56, 74. See 
Angles, Curves, Lines. 

Discontent as expressed in counte- 
nance, 121, 183, 188. 

Disdain as expressed in countenance, 
189. 

Displeasure, as expressed in counte- 
nance, 183. 

Distance, 28, 32, 37, 134 ; effects 
on magnitude, light, contrast, and 
detail, illustrated, 91, 206, 294, 
296-298, 304, 306, 308 ; on per- 
spective in color, 206, 207, 294, 
295, 307-309 ; in drawing, 293, 
294, 298 ; in sculpture, 302. 

Distinctness of line and outline, 295 
-298. 



4l6 PAINTING, SCULPTURE, AND ARCHITECTURE. 



Doggett, 46, 73. 

Dome, as representative, 38, 352- 

354, 356, 357, 378 ; false, 354, 

355, 359- 

Domestic architecture and cold 

colors, 203—205. 
Doors, 342, 349. 
Doorway, 20. 
Dore, G., 209. 

Doric Greek style, 380, 387-389, 404. 
Dou, 307. 
Doubt as expressed in countenance, 

172. 
Douglas Park University, Chicago, 

337- 

Downward, gesture, 152-163; glance 
of eye, 171, 172, 178. 

Drapery, 303, 306. 

Drawing as representing mental 
states, 58-60. 

Dream, Detaille's, 158, 272, 275 ; 
of Jacob, 272. 

Dresden Gallery, 260. 

Drowning Man, 128, 129. 

Dupre, G., 157. 

Duration, 15, iS, 37, 39. 

Duval's Diagrams of Facial Expres- 
sion, 191. 

Dying Gladiator, Gaul, or Galatian, 
282, 283. 

Eagerness as expressed in pose and 
countenance, 169, 

Ear, proportionately divided, go, 97, 
98, 124 ; parallel to nose, 98. 

Easter Advertisement, Gorham Com- 
pany, 235, 236. 

Egotistic as expressed in pose and 
countenance, 177. 

Egypt, 218, 389. 

Egyptian, ancient face, 203, 221, 
222; art, 220-222; buildings, 386; 
capital, 32, 34, 3S6, 394, 398 ; 
hieraco sphinx, 393, 398 ; paint- 
ings, 304; picture from " Book of 
the Dead," 219, 221, 222; temple, 
394, 396, 398 ; writing 219, 22T. 

Ejaculations as leading to language, 
4-6. 

Elbows, as expressive, 133 ; as bent 
in questions, 138, 140. 

Elements of Art Criticism, 386. 



Elephanta, Cave at, 315-317, 375, 

376,389, 397, 403, 407. 
Elevation of Soul as represented by 

upward lines, 68, 84. 
Elizabethan Gothic, 380. 
Ely Cathedral, Choir of, 178, 380, 

39°, 39 2 , 405- 

Emotional, 121. 

Emotions, as represented in archi- 
tecture, 78, 82, 86; in art, 1, 2, 12, 
13, 23, 214, 215, 240 ; by lines, 
59-61, 66, 68, 73, 78, 82, 86 ; in 
painting of animals, 262, 263 ; of 
landscapes, 259-262 ; of portraits, 
268, 269; through variety of color, 
194, 195, 200, 208, 209. 

Emotive, effect of regularity, 96 ; 
excitation expressed in color, 194, 
200, 208, 209 ; expression in ges- 
ture and face, 129, 130, 136-138 ; 
140, 142, 145, 169, 170, 180-182, 
191 ; tendency in art, n-13, 19- 
22, 59-61, 66, 82, 94 ; in bodily 
expression, 113, 114, 118, 123 ; 
why connected with moral ex- 
pression, 113, 114 ; why its seat 
in arms, 136 ; in breast, 127, 128. 

Emphasis, as imparted by shading, 

17. 

Encyclopaedia of Architecture, 384. 

Energy, mental and material, as 
represented in arts of sight, 19, 
42, 44, 46-56, 59. See Strength. 

England, Art in, 243. 

English Literature, History of, 218. 

Englishman's intonations, ix. 

Entablature, Architecture of, 78, 84, 
86, 381-382. 

Excitability, how represented in 
body, 108, 112. 

Excitation by color, 194, 200, 208, 
209. 

Exeter Hall, 326, 327, 330, 336. 

Exhibition. See Chicago. 

Expectancy as expressed in counte- 
nance, 187. 

Explanations, function of, in paint- 
ings and- statues, 251, 254, 286- 
290. 

Expression, differing in each art, 30, 
3U-314 ; emotive, 11-13, 19-22, 
59, 60, 61, 66, 82, 94, 127-130, 



INDEX. 



4*7 



136-138, 140, 142, 145, 148 ; 
facial, determined by contrast, 
168 ; in gesture by one's concep- 
tions, 154, 168 ; in men and ani- 
mals, 107 ; instinctive, 4, 6-13, 
19-21, 58, 59, 60, 62, 63, 72, 94, 
126-137, 142-149, 166, 214 ; hu- 
man, as developed in art, 23 ; 
reflective, 6-13, 19-21, 59, 61, 62, 
65, 66, 73, 82, 94, 95, 133, 134, 
137, 142, 175, 198 ; responsive, 
30, 311-314; subjective, 30, 311- 
314 ; sustained and unsustained, 
30, 311-314. See Architecture, 
Body, Color, Countenance, Lines, 
Painting, and Sculpture. 

Extension, 14, 15. 

Extraneous force represented by 
outlines, 66, 72. 

Extremities of body as representa- 
tive, 111-113, 123. 

Eye, divided proportionately, 90, 
97, 98. 

Eyebrows, 98, 100, 1 12, 119, 172, 
'181, 184, 185, 187, 188. 

Eyes, 115-121, 124, 161, 166, 168, 
170-190 ; closed or open, 186-188. 

Face, human, American type of, 
101 ; divided proportionately, 90, 
96-98 ; front, 90, 97, 98, 101-103 ; 
Greek type of, 100, 101 ; regular- 
ity of, 88, 98-103 ; side, 90, 97, 
98 ; significance of movements of, 
165-17 1 ; of different parts of, 
115-121. 

Facial Expression, 165-191. See 
Countenance. 

Fairies' Song, 57. 

Faith as expressed in countenance, 
178, 179. 

Faith, Hope, and Love as expressed 
in countenance, 147-149, 151, 
162, 169. 

Farnese Hercules, 20, 21, 24, 26, 
281. 

Farragut, 266. 

Farrar, 5. 

Fawn of Praxiteles, 61, 144, 147, 
282. 

Fear as expressed in countenance, 
178, 185, 186, 188, 190. 



Fear and Rage as expressed in coun- 
tenance, 174, 181, 184, 186, 189. 

Feeling, mental, as represented in 
art, 19, 46-48 ; in architecture, 
317, 321. See Emotions and 
Emotive. 

Feet, expression, by 112, 123, 130, 
145, 146. 

Figure, human, divided proportion- 
ately, 90, 96-98 ; painting, 263- 
278 ; significance of different parts 
of body, 1 15-130. 

Figures carved in stone age, 215, 
216. 

Fine Art, 225, 315 ; Pictures, 93. 

Fingers, correspondence between 
their gestures and those of face, 

166, 181, 182, 185, 188 ; gestures 
with, 151, 155-163 ; shape of, 
121, 122, 124. 

First Communion, The, 202 ; Prin- 
ciples, 127. 
First gestures, 134, 155, 156 ; cor- 
respondence of, to face gestures, 

181, 183, 185. 
Flambert, G., vii. 
Flaxman, 280. 
Florence, Relief from Baptistry of, 

247, 248, 286, 302 ; Strozzi Palace 

at, 346, 347, 359- 36o. 
Flower-painting, 255-258. 
Flowers for the Hospital, picture, 

268. 
Flying Mercury, 21, 25, 26, 62, 73, 

135. 152. 
Force, as represented in lines, 15, 

18, 39, 42 ; in the countenance, 

171. 
Foreground, 28, 37. 
Forehead, 98, 99, 102, 119, 120, 

124, 129, 156, 168, 169, 171, 182, 

184, 188. 
Foreshortening, 298. 
Form versus Significance, vi, vii, 

221-290. 
Fortuny, 304, 307. 
Forward movements of body as 

representative, 129, 148-164, 166, 

167, 169, 174. 
Foundations, 38, 322, 323, 342. 
Fowler, O. S., 108, 109, III, 112, 

114. 



41 8. PAINTING, SCULPTURE, AND ARCHITECTURE. 



Framework of lines, for pictures, 
73, 89, go, 95-103 ; representing 
both natural and mental require- 
ments, 94. 

France, Art in, vi, 243. 

Freedom, 61, 65, 133. 

Frieze of Parthenon, 223, 225, 281, 
282. 

Frightful as expressed in counte- 
nance, 173, 177. 

Fromentin, 300, 308. 

Fruit-painting, 263-278. 

Fussy, The, 356. 



Gable, 334, 362, 363. 

Gainsborough, 264. 

Galatian Dying, 282, 283. 

Galileo, Face of, 173, 174. 

Galway, Queen's College, 84, 349, 
350, 355, 359. 3 6 o, 380. 

Gargoyle, 393, 394, 398. 

Gaul Dying, 282, 283. 

Gautier, T., vi. 

Gayety, as represented in counte- 
nance, 183, 184, 187, 189, 191 ; in 
color, 199, 204. 

General Elliot, Portrait of, 266. 

Genesis of Art-Form, The, 56, 90, 
92, 93, 224, 306, 327, 406. 

Genre painting, 270-272. 

Germany, Art in, 243 ; law regulat- 
ing height of buildings, 360. 

Gerome, 34, 274, 287, 291. See 
Pollice Verso. 

Gestures, 2, 107 ; away from body 
and toward it, 162-164 ; closing, 
130, 132, 134, 136, 152, 156, i6r; 
compound curve in, 138-140 ; cor- 
respondence between hand and 
face, 166, 181, 182, 185-188 ; 
meaning of, x, xi, 125-189 ; 
fingers, 151, 156-163, 166 ; 
fist, 134, 155, 156 ; opening, 
138, 151, 159, 160, 161, 182, 
185-188 ; place where struck 
sideward, upward, or downward, 
150-154 ; shape of hand in, 1 55— 
161. 

Ghent, Street in, 344, 346, 362, 
3S0. 

Ghiberti, L., 248. 



Giants from Temple of Agrigentum, 
395, 39 6 , 398. 

Giovanni da Bologna, 21. 

Girlhood of the Virgin Mary, 229, 
230, 252, 295. 

Giuliano de' Medici, Tomb of, 50, 
301, 302. 

Gladiator Dying, 282, 283. 

Goldsmith, Face of, 109, 113, 115, 
117, 119, 124, 167. 

Gorham Manufacturing Co., 235, 
236. 

Gossip, 304. 

Gothic Architecture, 8, 9, 34, 35, 52, 
68, 78, 86, 349, 369, 378-384; 
capitals, 390, 395, 396 ; cathedrals, 
226, 382, 398, 399 (see Cathe- 
drals) ; decorated, 380, 390, 404, 
405 ; Elizabethan, 380 ; emotive 
effects of, 86, 87 ; fitted for groups 
of buildings, 367, 368 ; florid, 
380, 404, 405 ; nave and trees, 
398, 399 ; perpendicular, 380 ; 
pillars, 388 ; pointed, 380-384, 
404, 405 ; styles of, 380-384 ; 
rank of styles, 404, 405 ; Tudor, 
380. 

Graceful, as expressed by surfaces, 
49 ; by curves, 61, 133. 

Gradation, in line, 15-18, 22, 39, 
42 ; in color, 306 ; in outlines, 

55-87. 

Grammar of Painting and Engrav- 
ing, 46, 73, 292. 

Grand style in Greek sculpture, 281. 

Granet, F. M., 304. 

Granite, 203. 

Grave, as expressed in line, 74 ; in 
the countenance, 183. 

Gray color as representative, 200, 
203, 207. 

Greco-Roman Architecture, 34, 36. 

Greek, architecture, 8, 9, 34-36, 78, 
86, 378-384, 395-398^404, 405; 
art separate from writing, 222, 
223 ; composite capitals and style, 
380, 404 ; conventional forms in, 
394 ; Corinthian capitals and style, 
52, 34, 380, 387, 39°, 394, 398 J 
Doric capitals and style, 380, 387, 
389, 390, 404 ; groups of buildings, 
367, 369 ; groups of statues, 223, 



INDEX. 



419 



224 ; Ionic capitals and style, 380, 

3S8, 389 ; rank of architectural 

styles, 404; sculpture, 76, 224, 225, 

281-2S4 ; temples, 52 ; type of 

face, 100, 101 
Greeks, 57. 
Green color as representative, 195, 

197, 198, 209, 210. 
Greuze, 47. 
Grief, apprehensive, as expressed in 

countenance, 173, 1S3, 184, 187, 

190. 
Groups, in buildings, 367, 369 ; in 

statues, 223, 224. 
Growth, appearance and effects of, 

65, 82. 
Guido, 71, 265, 272. 
Gutters, 359, 360. 
Guttural, elocutionary tone, 197, 

20S, 209. 
Gwilt, 384. 



Hals, 307. 

Hall of Mechanical Arts, Columbian 
Exhibition, 363. 

Hand, as bent in gesture, 138-140 ; 
as used in gesture, 149-164 ; cor- 
respondence between its gestures 
and facial expression, 166, 181, 
182, 185-188 ; representation by 
natural shape, 121-124 ; assumed 
shape, 112, 155-161. See Fingers, 
Fist, and Gestures. 

Handbook, of Drawing, 97 ; to the 
Egyptian Court, 220. 

Handling or touch, 15, 16, 19, 21, 
42-54 ; in architecture, 51-54 ; in 
painting, 42-48 ; in sculpture, 48- 

51. 
Harper Brothers, 236. 
Hatred as expressed in countenance, 

100. 
Haydn, 402. 
Head, meaning of movements of, 

147, 148, 166-189 I m connection 

with facial expression, 166-178 ; 

phrenologically divided, 11 5-1 21, 

124, 167 ; significance of different 

parts of, 115-121. 
Heaviness, Representation of, 25, 

26, 37- 



Height, Effect of, lessened by large- 
ness of environment, 32; by width, 
34, 35 ; representing high rooms 
and air for crowds, 38. 

Heine, 272. 

Helmholtz, 378, 385, 398. 

Henry, II. Receiving Crown, 27, 29 ; 
VI., 244 ; VII. 's chapel, 380, 403- 

405. 
Heracles, Triton and Nereids, 27, 

222. 

Herculaneum, 320. 

Hercules, Farnese, 20, 21, 24, 26, 

281. 
Herder, 5, 117. 
Heroic Sculpture, Greek, 281. 
Hieraco Sphinx, 393, 398. 
Hieroglyphics, 218-221. 
High, buildings, 364-367 ; school 

tower, 327, 330. 
Hips, expression by, 123, 138, 142, 

143,^47. 

Historical paintings, 274, 275 ; sculp- 
ture, 286. 

Holyrood ornamental arcade, 226, 
227. 

Hopelessness, Expression of, in coun- 
tenance, 173, 174, 186. 

Horizontally, 65, 66, 72-74, 78, 82, 
84, 90, 97, 166, 378 ; in gestures, 
150, 151. 

Horror, in color, 208, 109 ; in coun- 
tenance, 175, 185, 186, 188. 

Hostility in color, 208. 

Hottentot Krall, 80, 377, 379, 384. 

Hours with Art and Artists, 292. 

Houses, at Morlaix, 323, 324 ; rep- 
resentatively constructed, 52, 318, 
319, 323, 324, 343, 344, 360, 380. 
See Huts. 

Houses of Parliament, 34, 36, 38. 

How, they Brought the Good News, 
58 ; to judge a picture, 292, 
300. 

Human element in landscape, 259. 
See Art, Artist, Body, Face, Fig- 
ure, Hands, Head, etc. 

Humanities, The, 2, 242. 

Hunt, Leigh, 57. 

Huts, originals, from which houses 
are developed, 80, 374-379. 383, 
3S4. 397- 



420 PAINTING, SCULPTURE, AND ARCHITECTURE. 



Iambic Measure, 57. 

Idea, Constructive, as represented 

in architecture, 322-334. 
Ideographic writing, 217. 
Illustrated magazines, 236. 
Imagination, appeal of mixed forms 

to, 68; play of, viii, 318, 319, 354. 
Imitated, developed in architecture 

later than conventional forms, 

387. 
Imitation, 3, 4, 6-13, 30, 59, 70, 
214-217, 226, 237, 385, 386, 388, 

398, 399 ; advances in all art from 
generic to specific, 385, 386, 398, 

399, 402 ; in architecture, 28-31, 
312-314, 374-385 ; in metaphors 
and similes, 243, 244 ; in music, 
28-31, 312-314 ; in painting, 226- 
229 ; versus invention in architec- 
ture, 406. See Representation, 
associated or suggestive, and com- 
parative or imitative. 

Imitative, 2 ; as contrasted with sug- 
gestive in all the arts, 385-402 ; in 
painting, changes made in, 95 ; 
representation in the arts, 27, 28, 
214-217. 

Immobility, as represented in paint- 
ing and architecture, 25. 

Importance as represented in paint- 
ing and architecture, 27, 37. 

Impressionists, 296. 

Impudence as represented in coun- 
tenance, 167, 177, 178. 

Incongruity, 191. 

India, Temples of, 380, 399, 400, 
401. 

Individuality necessary in counte- 
nance, 103. 

Inferno, The, 209. 

Influential, The, as represented in 
painting and architecture, 27. 

Initial elocutionary stress, 16. 

Inness, G., 259, 308. 

Instinctive tendency in expression, 
4, 6-13, 19-21, 58-60, 62, 63, 72, 
94 ; in color, 193, 194, 198 ; in 
drawing, 58-60 ; in the human 
form, 126-137, 142-149, 166, 214. 

Intensity as represented, 39. 

Interest in a building, 333, 338- 
342. 



Interior of a building as determining 
exterior appearance, 337-352. 

Interjections or ejaculations in for- 
mation of language, 4-6. 

Interpretive or mental temperament, 
HT-113, 122, 124, 126; facial 
movements, 166 ; inward and out- 
ward movements, 129, 130, 162- 
164. 

Interrogation as expressed in counte- 
nance, 171, 172. 

Intonations, Meaning of, ix, x. 

Ipsambool, Egyptian Temple at, 

394, 39 6 , 398. 
Iron, as used in building, 326-331, 

358, 403 ; concealed, 329, 330. 
Irregularity, 15-18, 22, 88-103. 
Israels, 308. 
Italian, Early, paintings, 304. 

Jacque, 308. 

Japan, Art of, 232, 236. 

Japanese compositions, 90, 93. 

Jarvis, 282. 

Jaw, expressive of, 116, 124, 167. 

Jewish Cemetery, The, 260, 261. 

Jones, Owen, 220. 

Joshua, Life of, picture, 248. 

Joyous Conception, as represented by 

color, 204 ; by lines, 65, 74. 
Judas, Peter, and John, picture, 

147, 148, 150, 158, 167, 169, 287. 

Kaffir Station, picture of, 377, 378, 

38i, 384. 
Kaulbach, 248, 250, 265, 272. 
Kermesse, 47. 

Knee, Expression with, 145, 146. 
Kostroma, Church near, 25, 26, 32, 

34. 

Landscape, gardening, 95 ; as repre- 
senting man and nature, 70 ; 
painting, 95 ; as representing artist 
and significance, 258-262. 

Landscape with Waterfall, picture, 
260. 

Landseer, 262, 263. 

Lang, 76, 266. 

Language and Languages, 5 ; and 
the Science of, 7 ; origin of, 4-7. 

Laocoon, Criticism of, 245-253, 284- 



INDEX. 



42 



286; group of, 49, 77, 174, 223, 
2S1, 284, 285. 

Large size, as representative, 8, 9, 
24, 25, 28, 38. 

Last Judgment, picture, 147. 

Laughter, and gayety, as expressed 
in countenance, 100, 183-185, 187, 
189, 191 ; and smiling, 100, 183, 
184. 

Lavater, 11 7-1 19. 

Leaning of head, forward, 168-175 ; 
sideward, 173-180. 

Leaving for Work, picture, 295, 299, 
300. 

Lectures, on Design, 253, 276 ; on 
Sculpture, 280. 

Leg, Expression with the, 123, 145, 
146. 

Length as representative, in body, 
62, 108, 109, 113 138, 145, 152; 
in hand, 1 21-123 ; in head, 115 ; 
in gesture, 135 ; in lines of archi- 
tecture, 84 ; of painting, 73, 74 ; 
of nature, 66-70 ; moral effect of, 
62, 108-114. 

Leonardo, 305. 

Lerolle, 308. 

Lessing's Theory, 245-253, 270-272, 
284. 

Lesueur, 74. 

Life and Movement, as expressed in 
color, 309 ; in drawing, 203, 290- 
302. 

Life Drama, poem, 244. 

Light and Shade, 17, 18, 41, 42, 50, 
51, 55, 293, 294 ; in color, 304- 
306, 309 ; in drawing, 293, 294 ; 
in sculpture, 41, 302 ; in architec- 
ture, 52, 54 ; lines expressive of. 
18, 41, 44, 46, 294, 307. 

Light, as related to Color, 193, 194, 
195 ; effects of distance on, 91, 
206, 294, 296, 298, 304, 306, 308. 

Lightness as represented, 25, 26. 

Limbs, human, Size of, as represent- 
ative, 21, 24, 25. 

Lines, as expressive of aspiration, 
68, 73, 74, 84, 108 ; buoyancy, 65, 
74 ; character, 73-87 ; in architec- 
ture, 78-87 ; in painting and sculp- 
ture, 49, 50, 70-77, 269 ; of dig- 
nity. 37. 66, 73, 82, 112, 114, 149, 



33 2 « 356 ; elevation of aim, 68, 
84 ; energy, mental and material, 
19, 42, 44, 46-56, 57, 59 ; extra- 
neous force, 66, 72, 87 ; freedom, 
61, 65, 133 ; force, 15, 18, 39, 42 ; 
gracefulness, 133 ; gravity, 183 , 
immobility, 27, 37; importance, 27, 
37 ; influence, 27, 37 ; joyousness, 
65, 74 ; life and movement, 203, 
290-302 ; light and shade, 17, 41, 
42, 44, 46, 49, 51, 55,_ 294; per- 
sistence, 66, 73 ; massiveness, 32, 
293, 298 ; repose, 44, 45, 66, 72, 
84, 326, 356 ; seriousness, 66, 73, 
74, 82, 84, 87 ; storm, 43, 44, 65, 
66 ; strength or weakness, 15, 
16, 18, 21, 24, 25, 32, 39, 42, 
44, 52, 54, 355, 405 ; substantial- 
ity, 25, 332 ; unconsciousness, 61, 
126 ; unsubstantiality, 26 ; weak- 
ness, 16, 25, 49, 50 ; yielding, 49 ; 
dividing the face and figure pro- 
portionately, 88-103. See Angular, 
Curved, Horizontal, Mixed, Per- 
pendicular, Straight, Vertical. 

Lion Hunt, picture, 202. 

Lips, Expression by, 115-118. 

Literary painting, 228-230, 245- 
253, 270-272 ; true application of 
term, 251. 

Longfellow, his face, 109, 113, 115, 
117, 119, 124. 

Luini, B., 248, 250, 251. 

Lungs as expressive of motive tem- 
perament, 114. 

MacLean, T. N., 143. 
Macmonnies, 266, 267, 281. 
Madonnas, Raphael's, 262. 
Magi, Adoration of the, picture, 72, 

73, 174, 263, 276. 
Magnitude, Effect of distance on, 

91, 206, 294, 296-298, 304, 306, 

308. 
Malice expressed in countenance, 

100, 177, 185. 
Mantegazza, 116, 118, 120. 
Marble, in architecture, 403 ; in 

statues, 203. 
Maria, Christina, Tomb of, 50, 73, 

263, 286 ; Stern's, 129, 131, 142, 

156, 168. 



422 PAINTING, SCULPTURE, AND ARCHITECTURE. 



Marks, H. S., 63, 270 ; St. Venice, 

36. 37- 

Marr, C, 304. 

Marriage, Proposition of, picture, 
61, 138, 147, 160, 161, 169, 175. 

Massive Outlines as representative, 
32. 

Material Surroundings, as represented 
in art, 4, 42, 44, 46-51, 59, 63- 
78 ; in architecture, 372-408 ; in 
painting and sculpture, 291-310 ; 
as representing mental conditions, 
2, 42, 46-51, 59, 63-78. 

Mausoleum. See Tomb. 

Measures, poetic, 16, 17, 57, 88 ; 
corresponding to measurements in 
space, 57. 

Measurements, 17, 32, 57, 58, 88 ; 
for regularity correspond either in 
space or shape, 89, 97. 

Median elocutionary stress, 16. 

Meissonier, 307. 

Melody, 18. 

Melrose Abbey, 24-26, 32, 34, 204, 
322, 380, 390. 

Memorial Architecture, 356, 357. 

Mental, as represented in the 
arts of sight, conceptions, I, 2, 
23, 214, 215, 226, 241 ; in archi- 
tecture, 311-371 ; in painting and 
sculpture, 239-253 ; control, 115, 
122-124, 126 ; energy, 19, 42, 44, 
46-56, 59 ; expression by inward 
and backward movements, 129 ; 
influence, 19-22, 121, 142, 152, 
167-178, 180, 181, 191, 198 ; pur- 
pose in buildings, 334-352 ; tem- 
perament, 108-114. 

Mentality, ill, 115, 121, 134. See 
Mental. 

Mercury, Flying, 21, 25, 26, 62, 73, 
135, J52. 

Mermaid, The, poem, 40. 

Merry Miller Song, viii. 

Metaphor, Accuracy of imitation in, 
243, 244. 

Metropolitan Museum, New York, 

304, 309. 
Mexico, Early writing in, 218. 
Millet, J. T., 299, 230-232, 253, 

260, 295, 301, 308. 
Milton, vi. 



Mind, as represented in art, 19, 217. 
See Mental. 

Minerva, 76, 77. 

Mixed colors, as representative, 207- 
211 ; lines, 59, 75, 77, 87. 

Mobility as represented in outline, 
25, 26, 37. 

Monks in the Oratory, picture, 304. 

Monastery, Troitzka, Door of, 30, 
388, 390. 

Moral, as represented, in bodily 
shape and movement, by reach 
and length, 62, 108-114 ; by 
rigidity, 137, 138, 152, 168-170, 
178, 180, 187 ; involving control, 
115, 123, 124 ; connected with 
emotive expression, 113, 114, 135; 
influence, 62 ; its seat in arms 
and breast, 128, 137, 142 ; tem- 
perament, 108-114, 128. 

Moral Thoughts, Tomassee's, 118. 

Motive, 19 ; expression as com- 
bining mental and instinctive, 
127, 129, 136, 187 ; or active 
temperament, 108-114, 128 ; con- 
nection with emotive or moral 
expression, 113, 114, 135 ; indi- 
cated by length, 62, 108-114 ; in- 
volving control, 115, 118, 122- 
124 ; its seat in limbs and breast, 
127, 128, 137, 142, 148. 

Mouth, expression through, 112, 
115-118, 181-185, 189 ; regularity 
of, 98, 99. 

Movability, as represented in arts of 
sight, 25. 

Movement, as represented in color, 
309 ; in drawing, 293, 298 ; in 
sculpture, 302. 

Movements, bodily, as representing 
thought and emotion, 132, 134- 
189 ; when aggressive, 108, 169, 
171 ; backward and forward, 129, 
148-164, 166-180 ; inward and 
outward, 128-130, 1 62-164, T 66- 
180 ; oblique, 62, 130, 132, 137, 
144, 145, 147, 148, 158, 167, 172, 
175; sideward, 130, 148-154, 166, 
167, 170-175; upward and down- 
ward, 129, 134-137, 148-154, 162- 
164, 166-180; form of, 138-140; 
of head, 166-191 ; of arms and 



INDEX. 



42 3 



hands, 149-164 ; of the torso and 

lower limbs, 129-149 ; rotary, of 

hand, 166, 180. 
Mukteswara, Temple of, 3S0, 399, 

401. 
Munich, Marien Platz, 54, 343, 344, 

360, 380. 
Munzig, 264. 
Murillo, 202. 
Muscles, 114 ; of face, compared 

with hand gestures, 181. 
Musee, Prehistorique, 216. 
Music as a Representative Art, iii, 

v, 7, 196, 214, 2S7, 313, 372. 
Music, 88, 214, 3S5 ; begins earlier 

and develops later than poetry, 

313 ; developed from intonations, 

iv, v, yiii-x, 7, 313, 372, 373 ; 

expression in, iv, v, viii-x, 30, 

32. 
Musical, 59, 214. 
Myra, Rock tomb at 315, 316, 375, 

376, 387. 397, 403, 407. 
Mythologic painting, 272; sculpture, 

286. 

Napoleon, his face, 115-117, 118, 
119, 120, 124, 169, 177, 179. 

Nathan Hale, statue, 267, 281. 

National Gallery, London, 260. 

Natural, Appearances, as represented 
in architecture, 2, 32, 78-87, 312- 
321, 372-408 ; in art, 2, 4, 6 ; in 
metaphor and simile, 243, 244 ; 
in painting, 63-78, 226-236, 291- 
310 ; in building material for a 
locality, 408 ; colors and dyes, 
198 ; how representing thought, 
3, 63-78. 

Naturalistic Line in drawing, 294- 
296. 

Nature, as represented in architec- 
ture, 374, 375 ; different from art, 
257, 258. 

Nausica, Figure from, 60, 61, 72, 
129, 130, 133. 

Nave of a cathedral resembling 
trees, 84, 398, 399, 403. 

Nearness, as represented by color, 
206, 207, 294, 295, 307, 308 ; by 
shape and line, 28, 32, 91, 294, 
295. See Distance. 



Negro Huts, 80, 378, 383, 384. 

Nerves, nervous, nerve-force, 11 1, 
113, 114, 119, 121, 126 ; sympa- 
thetic, 126 ;'cerebro-spinal, 114, 
127. 

Neville, R., 337. 

New Guinea Chief, A, 136-138. 

Nightingale, Florence, 268. 

Normal, action in nature ; how rep- 
resented, 65, 72 ; tone in elocu- 
tion, 197, 207 ; school building, 
New Zealand, 331-333, 355. 358, 
359- 

Nose, Expression by, 98, 99, 100, 
112, 120, 121, 124, 129, 188, 189. 

Nostrils, Expression by, 102, 120, 

181, 183-185, 188, 189, 191. 
Notes as used in measures, 57. 

Oblique movements, 130, 144 ; 
backward 62 130, 132, 145, 147, 
148, 158, 167 ; forward, 130, 132, 
137, 145, 148, 167, 172, 175. 

Observatory, 357. 

Octagon, 56. 

Old South Church, Boston, 35, 52, 
54,84, 331, 380. 

Opening Gesture, Curves in the 138- 
140 ; downward, 138, 151, 159, 
160 ; likened to facial expression, 

182, 183, 186 ; sideward, 138, 
151, 159, 160 ; upward, 151, 160, 
161. 

Opera House, Metropolitan, New 

York, 204. 
Opie, J., 252, 276. 
Orange color as representative, 195, 

197, 198, 209, 210. 
Orator's Manual, 133, 163, 164, 197. 
Organ Recital, picture, 309. 
Oriental temples and palaces like 

tents, 376. 
Originality in architecture, 406, 407. 
Originating in art, 2. 
Ornamental arcade from Holyrood, 

226, 227. 
Ornamental, developed from useful 

features, 318 ; in architecture, 

374, 375, 386-397- 
Orotund tone in elocution, 197, 207, 

210. 
Othello, 244. 



424 PAINTING, SCULPTURE, AND ARCHITECTURE. 



Outlines, 15, 17, 19, 20, 22, 32, 40, 

41, 42; angular, 55-87, no; 
curved, 55-87, go, no ; regularity 
of, 88-105 ; straight, 55-87, no. 
See Lines. 

Outward Movements, 128-130, 162- 

164, 166-180. 
Ovals, 97, 98. 
Overbeck, 228. 
Oxford public schools, 360, 369, 380. 

Paint, Excessive, appearance of, in a 
painting, 306, 309. 

Painting, allegorical, 248, 272, 273 ; 
as representing mental concep- 
tions, 239-279, 286-290; natural 
appearances, 291-310 ; time, 245- 
253 ; as interpreting itself, 254- 
279, 286-290 ; as literary, 228- 
230, 245-253, 270-272 ; of details 
developing late, 385 ; lines in, 
41-48, 70-77 ; its mode of expres- 
sion, 30, 32, 70-78, 213-238 ; 
distinguished from that of archi- 
tecture, 30, 32, 311-314 ; from 
poetry, 245, 246 ; from music, 30, 
32, 311-314 ; from sculpture, 280, 
281 ; historical, 274-278 ; mytho- 
logical, 272, 273 ; portrait, 263- 
269 ; significance versus form in, 
vi, vii, 239-279 ; symbolical, 
272, 273 ; touch in, 42-48. See 
Color, Line, Outlines, Shape. 

Palaces, Oriental, 376, 377. 

Pallas of Villetri, 47, 49, 76, 281. 

Palm, 123, 124 ; gestures with, 156- 
161, 181. 

Palmistry, iii, 107 ; shape of hand, 
121-124. 

Palms, Avenue of, Rio, 32, 73, 84, 

85, 399- 
Pantomime, iii, 107. See Gestures 

and Facial Expression. 
Paris, Grand Opera House, 405 ; 

streets of, 345, 363, 364. 
Parallel lines as representative, 56, 

59, 65, 68, 73-75, 97- 
Parallelism, 90, 91, 92, 95. 
Parliament, Houses of, 34, 36, 38, 

42, 52, 322, 358, 380. 
Parthenon, Figures from, 223, 225, 

281, 282. 



Pauses, Elocutionary, 15, 39, 40. 
Pavilion of Richelieu, Paris, 52, 

348, 358, 359, 38o. 
Pectoral elocutionary tone, 197, 207- 

209. 
Pedant's Proposition of Marriage, 

picture, 61, 138, 147, 160, 161, 

169, 175. 
Pekin, Winter Palace at, 358, 376, 

377, 380, 386. 
Pericles, 225. 
Perpendicular, Gothic, 380 ; Lines, 

52, 65, 76. 
Perplexity, as expressed in counte- 
nance, 172, 173 ; in color, 194, 

208. 
Persia, capital, 394, 398 ; portal at 

Persepolis, 393, 398. 
Perspective, aerial, 206, 307-309 ; 

laws of, 28-34,37 ; in architecture, 

32 ; in sculpture, 302 ; lineal, 28- 

34, 37, 91, 293, 296, 298. 
Persistence, expressed in natural 

outlines, 66, 73 ; of men, 112, 

114, 122. 

Persuasion expressed in gesture, 62. 
Peter Martyr, picture, 46. 
Phidias, 223. 
Phonetic writing, 218. 
Phrenology as explaining expression, 

iii, 7, 115-121. 
Physiognomy, and Expression, 116; 

as explaining expression, iii, 107, 

115-121 ; Lavater's, 117. 
Physiological psychologist, 115. 
Physiology as explaining expression, 

iii, 107-114. 
Physical influence, representation of, 

19-22 ; in human form, no, 113, 

115, 121, 123, 124, 168, 171, 174, 
175, 181, 183, 185, 198. [ 

Piankhi Receiving Submission, 27, 

50, 222. 
Picturesque, line in drawing, 294- 

296 ; motive in architecture, 314, 

316. 
Picture-writing, 217-221. 
Pilasters, 324, 326, 342-349. 
Pillars, 20, 25, 32, 38, 323, 326, 330, 

336, 342, 348, 375, 387, 39°- 
Pinakothek, Munich, 202. 
Pinnacles, 355, 371. 



INDEX. 



425 



Pitch, of color, 19, 22, 39, 195, 196, 
199 ; of sounds, 18, 192. 

Plan as represented in a building, 
320, 334-352. _ 

Play-impulse of imagination, as de- 
veloped in architecture, 318, 319, 
354 ; in all art, viii. 

Poetry as a Representative Art, iii, 
12, 15, 18, 56, 132, 196, 214, 

373- 

Poetry, 56, 57, S8 ; as representing 
time and space, 245, 246 ; de- 
scriptive, 246 ; early, style of, 385; 
flowery, never early, 3S5; form of, 
exalted above significance, vi ; 
method of expression, 30, 32, 34, 
214, 215, 311-314 ; development 
of, 372, 373- 

Poets, always sharp in shape, 109. 

Pointed arches, 380-385. 

Pollice Verso, picture, 28, 31, 34, 
91, 274, 287, 295. 

Pompei, 320, 321. 

Porches, 20, 342. 

Portrait painting, 263-269 ; sculp- 
ture, 281, 282. 

Poussin, N., 46, 48, 74, 75, 139. 

Poynter, E. J., 60. 

Praxiteles, 48, 144, 223. 

Preller, L., 224. 

Pre-Raphaelite, 228-230, 252, 295. 

Presentation at the Temple, picture, 
248, 250, 251. 

Pride, expressed in countenance, 
100 ; unconfiding, 167, 176, 177. 

Principles and methods of art edu- 
cation, 212, 296. 

Prometheus Unbound, poem, 244. 

Prophets, picture, 47. 

Proportion, 57, 89, 101. 

Proportion and color in painting, 
sculpture, and architecture, 306, 
307, 310. 

Proportionately divided human face, 
90, 97, 98, 101-103 ; form, 90, 
97, 98, 101. 

Prud'hon, 48. 

Pure elocutionary tone, 197, 207, 
210. 

Purple color as representative, 195, 
197-199, 210, 211. 

Pyrrhus Saved, picture, 75. 



Quality, in sound and color, 18, 19, 
22, 40, 92, 196, 199 ; in color, 
195, 196. 

Queen's College, Galway, 84, 349, 
350, 355, 359. 36o, 380. 

Questioning expressed in counte- 
nance, 171, 172. 

Radiation, 90, 95 ; in natural forms, 
92, 93 ; in perspective, 298. 

Rage and Fear, as expressed in coun- 
tenance, 174, 175, 181, 184, 186, 
189 ; contemptuous, 175, 176, 178, 
181-183, 186, 189. 

Rank of Art- Work, how determined, 
255, 256, 259. 

Rape of the Sabines, picture, 46, 

75, 87. 

Raphael, 77, 79, 104, 201, 226, 227, 
248, 250, 255, 265, 272, 276, 279, 
287. 

Rapture, religious, as expressed in 
countenance, 174, 175, 179. 

Ravenna, San Vitale, 380, 390, 39L 

Red, color, 195, 197, 198, 200, 201, 
209, 210; and sound of trumpet, 
201. 

Recent ideals in American art, 292. 

Rectangles, 65. 

Reflection, as expressed in the coun- 
tenance, 182, 184-186, 188 ; in 
the bodily movements, 129, 142, 
156, 162, 167, 191. 

Reflective tendency, in color, 193, 
194 ; in expression, 6-13, 19-21, 
59, 61, 62, 65, 66, 73, 82, 94, 95, 
133, 134, 137, 142, 175, 198 ; in 
the human form, 126-137, 142- 
149 ; meaning of term, 127. 

Reformation, 272. 

Regular figure, 56. 

Regularity of countenance, 101-104 ; 
of outline, 15-18, 22, 39, 42, 68, 
73, 88-105. 

Rejection expressed in countenance, 
183, 189; in gesture, 158. 

Relief, Treatment of Design in, 44, 
46, 293, 294, 307. 

Religious, ideas in art, 226 ; rapture 
expressed in countenance, 174, 

175, J79- 
Rembrandt, 48, 295, 305. 



426 PAINTING, SCULPTURE, AND ARCHITECTURE. 



Renaissance, 52. 

Repetition, 74, 75. 

Repose, in architecture, 84, 326, 
356 ; in landscape and figure il- 
lustration, 69, 70, 73, 90, 259 ; 
in outlines of nature, 44, 45, 66, 
72 ; Lines expressive of, 18, 44, 
45, 70, 90, 93, 259. 

Representation, as associative or 
suggestive, 4-13, 18, 27, 28, 32, 
37, 51, 214, 385,^86, 388, 398, 
399 ; as comparative or imitative, 
4, 6-13, 27, 28, 32, 37, 214-217, 
385, 386, 398 ; factors of, audible, 
3, 14-23 ; visible, 19-22, 23 ; the 
two compared, 14-18 ; of artist in 
architecture, 316, 317, 320; in 
painting and sculpture, 257-272 ; 
of form and significance both 
necessary, vi, vii, 226, 228 ; of 
mind and nature go together, 3 ; of 
mental conceptions in architecture, 
28-38, 51-54,63-87,311-314,322- 
371 ; in painting and sculpture, 41- 
48, 7o-77, 239-290, 311-314; of 
surrounding appearances in archi- 
tecture, 2, 32, 78-87, 312-321, 372 
-408 ; in painting and sculpture, 
41-48, 70-77, 291-310 ; sugges- 
tive of such conceptions as bright- 
ness, 22, 195-212 ; dignity, 37, 66, 
73, 82, 112, 114, 149, 199, 202, 203; 
distance, 28, 32, 37, 134, 206, 
207, 294, 295, 307-309 ; freedom, 
61, 65, 133 ; fussiness, 356 ; heavi- 
ness, 25, 26, 37 ; height, 32, 34, 
35, 38 ; immobility, 27, 37 ; im- 
portance, 27, 37; influence, 27, 37; 
gracefulness, 49, 61, 133 ; gayety, 
100, 183, 184, 187, 189, 191, 199, 
204; joyousness, 65, 74 ; length, 66 
-7°, 73, 74, 84 ; lightness, 25, 26 ; 
magnitude, 91, 297, 298 ; move- 
ment, 32, 62, 130-189, 293, 298, 
309; persistence, 66, 73, 112, 114, 
122 ; persuasion, 62 ; repose, 44, 
45, 66, 72, 84, 326, 356 ; rigidity, 
138, 189; seriousness, 66, 73, 74, 
82, 84, H2, 183, 199, 202, 203; 
strength, 15, 16, 18, 21, 24, 25, 32, 
42, 44, 48, .56 ; substantiality, 
2 5, 37, 332 ; triumph, 179 ; un- 



substantially, 26 ; weakness, 16, 
25, 49, 50 ; width, 32, 34, 35, 38 ; 
yeilding, 49. See also other con- 
ceptions as indicated under Ac- 
cent, Angles, Architecture, Body, 
Color, Countenance, Curves, 
Lines, Painting, Sculpture, etc. 

Responsive expression, 30, 311— 314. 

Resurrection, The, statue, 140, 142, 
143, 151, 152, 160, 162, 167, 174, 
286. 

Reynolds, Sir J., 46, 266. 

Rhomboids, 97. 

Rhythm, 17, 57, 88, 89. 

Rhythm and Harmony in Poetry 
and Music, iii, ix, 195, 214. 

Ribera, 48. 

Richelieu, Pavilion, 52, 308, 348, 
349, 359, 38o. 

Rigidity of body expressive of moral 
force, 138, 189. 

Rock, cave carved on inside, 315— 
317, 375, 376, 389, 407; tomb 
carved on outside, 315, 316, 375, 

376, 387, 397, 403, 407. 

Roman art, 381. 

Romanesque Architecture, 36, 78, 
380, 384, 388, 390. 

Romantic Line in drawing, 294-296. 

Roofs, 26, 38, 327-329, 334, 342, 
353-371 ; church, support of, 329, 
330, 33i, 332 J flat, 358, 360, 362; 
Mansard, 371 ; primitive shapes 
of, 375-37 8 1 visible, 359, 360, 
362, 370. 

Roslyn Chapel, 405. 

Rossetti, 229, 230, 232. 

Rotary motion of head as expressive, 
166, 180. 

Rottmann, 260. 

Roundness, of body, 110-114; of 
face, 115, 118 ; of hands, 121, 
122 ; of movement, 133 ; sugges- 
tive of effects of growth, 82 ; of 
nature, 80. 

Rousseau, 307, 308. 

Rows of trees, 97. 

Royal Academicians, Lectures be- 
fore, 50, 77, 202. 

Rubens, 47, 227, 255, 276, 277 ; 
his coloring, 202. 

Ruskin, 54, 73, 86, 260. 



INDEX. 



427 



Russian, church, Paris, 82-S4, 86, 
323; house, 323, 325, 403, 408; 
Troitzka Monastery, 380, 3S8, 390. 

Ruysdael, 260, 261. 

Ryerson Physical Laboratory, 368, 
369, 380. 

Sabines, Rape of, 46, 75, 87. 

Sacrifice at Lystra, Raphael, 158, 
276, 279, 287. 

Sadness as expressed in countenance, 
189. 

Samson, 386. 

San Vitale, Ravenna, 380, 390, 391. 

Scale, Musical, 40. 

Scene in the Woods, 32, 33, 73, 399. 

Scheming as expressed in counte- 
nance, 171. 

Schiller Platz, Berlin, 354, 357, 380. 

School of Athens, Raphael, 201, 248, 
249, 250, 272, 287. 

Schnorr, J., 226. 

Scold expressed in countenance, 100. 

Scott, Sir W., 86. 

Sculpture, allegorical, 286 ; as repre- 
senting details, 385-396, 399- 
402 ; mental conceptions, 280- 
290 ; light and shade, 41, 302 ; 
space and time, 245-253 ; texture, 
303 ; touch, 48-51 ; color in, 280 ; 
excellence of ancient Egyptian, 
222 ; its mode of expression dis- 
tinguished from that of architec- 
ture and music, 28-33, 3 II_ 3 I 4! 
from painting, 28, 281 ; lines in, 
70-78 ; historical, 286 ; material 
of, 203, 280 ; mythological, 286 ; 
subjects demanding dignity of 
treatment, 280, 281 ; symbolical, 
286. 

Self-consciousness as expressed in 
the human form, 61. 

Self-control as manifested in human 
form, 114, 149. 

Self Instructor, Fowler's, 108. 

Seriousness, as manifested in color, 
199, 202, 203 ; in countenance, 
183 ; in outlines, 66, 73, 74, 82, 
84, 112. 

Sensations of Sound, Helmholtz, 
378. 

Setting, Artistic method of, 91. 



Seven Lamps of Architecture, The, 

54- 
Shade, Light and, 17, 18, 41, 42- 
50, 51, 55, 293, 294; in color, 
304-306, 309 ; in statues, 41, 301, 
302 ; in architecture, 52, 54 ; lines 
expressive of, 18, 41, 44, 46, 294, 

307- 

Shadows, 52 ; darkest in brightest 
light, 294, 306 ; how produced by 
color, 294, 302, 304, 305, 307, 308. 

Shading, 17, 39, 41, 42, 57. See 
Light and Shade. 

Shakespear, 248. 

Shaking hands, 236. 

Shape, 15, t8, 32, 88, 89, no ; an- 
gularity of, 55-87, 89 ; curvature 
of, 17, 21, 55-87, 88-94 ; repre- 
sentation of, with texture, in 
color, 306, 307 ; in drawing, 41, 
42, 293, 294 ; in sculpture, 41, 
302 ; through human, 106-124 ; 
though material, 39-87 ; regular- 
ity of, 88-105. 

Sharpness, of face and body, 108- 
115, 118-120; of hand, 121-123, 
I 34> 155. See Angles and An- 
gularity. 

Sheldon, G. W., 292. 

Shelley, 244. 

Shoulders as expressive, 123, 148. 

Sides or walls of buildings, 323-352. 

Sideward movements of body as 
representative, 130, 148-155, 166, 
167, 170-175- 

Sight as used in art, 2, 3, 7, 14-18. 

Significance, in architecture, 28-38, 
78, 86, 87, 316, 317, 320, 321- 
371 ; painting, 239-279, 286-290 ; 
of animals, 262, 263 ; flowers and 
fruits, 256-258 ; landscapes, 258- 
262 ; portraits, 263-269 ; in sculp- 
ture, 280-290 ; in that of Greece, 
222, 224, 225 ; necessary in paint- 
ing and sculpture, 221-286 ; 
reasons for denying necessity of, 
vii, 242, 243 ; versus regularity 
in faces and groups, 102—105 ; 
versus form in poetry, vi, vii. 

Significant in itself, necessary in a 
painting, 254-278 ; in a statue, 
281-286. 



428 PAINTING, SCULPTURE, AND ARCHITECTURE. 



Simile, accuracy of imitation in, 

.243, 244. 
Simple lines, as representative, 76, 
77, 87 ; effects in architecture, 

355, 405. 

Sincerity, 330, 332, 407, 408. 

Sistine Chapel, 47, 75, 298. 

Size, as representative, 15, 19, 20, 
23-38 ; of parts of body and ex- 
pression, 168. 

Sky-line, uniformity in street and 
institutional architecture, 362-364, 
366, 367, 370. 

Slender as representative, 21. 

Smallness as representative, 25, 26. 

Smiling face, 121, 184, 187. 

Smith, A., 244. 

Sneer in countenance, 100. 

Soldiers, Colors in uniforms of, 200, 
210. 

Soldier's Return, relief, 50, 51, 286, 
302. 

Solicitude as expressed in counte- 
nance, 186. 

Sorrow as expressed in countenance, 
185-188, 191. 

Sorrowful countenance, 173. 

Soul, as expressed in architecture, 
342 ; in art, 12, 202 ; correspond- 
ing to emotion, 12. 

Sound and Color compared, 192-21 2. 

Sounds as used in art, 2, 3, 23. 

Space or spaces as represented in 
painting, sculpture, and poetry, 
245-253 ; as representative in arts 
of sight, 14-38, 56, 88, 89. 

Spanish Lady, picture, 304. 

Spatulated fingers, 121, 122. 

Spencer, H., 127. 

Spine, 114. See Nerves. 

Spires, 355, 357, 378 ; primitive, 
378 ; Tissington, 65-67, 70, 72, 
259, 399- See Towers. 

Square as representative, 56, 89, 97 ; 
of character in the face, 99. 

Statues, Greek. 224, 225. 

St. Bruno, Life of, picture, 74. 

Steel in building, 330. See Iron. 

Steen, J., 307. 

Stern's Maria, picture, 129, 131, 142, 
156, 168. 

St. Gaudens, 266. 



Stimson, J. W., 212, 296, 297. 

St. Isaac's Cathedral, 34, 36, 38, 42, 

52, 78, 82, 352, 353, 356, 380. 
St. Mark's Cathedral, 36, 38, 42, 52, 

78, 82, 86, 380. 
St. Michael and Satan, Raphael, 103, 

104, 145, 168. 
Stone-age figures, 215, 216. 
Storm, 260 ; lines representative of, 

18, 43, 44, 60, 72, 259. 
Storm, A, picture, 230, 231, 253, 

259, 260, 295, 300. 
Story told by painting, 252, 253, 

268, 270-272. 
Straightness, as representative in 

nature, 55-87 ; in the human face 

and figure, 112, 134, 138, 140, 

149- 
Straight lines as representative, 55- 

87 ; in architecture, 405. 
Street Architecture, 362, 363 ; of 

America, 364-367 ; of Paris, 363, 

364, 37o. 
Strength, Outlines representing, 15, 

16, 18, 21, 24, 25, 32, 39, 42, 44 ; 

in architecture, 32, 39, 42, 52, 54, 

355,405. 
Stress, Elocutionary, 39, 56, 68, 84. 
String-courses, 323, 342, 344, 345, 

347- 

Stroke, 15. See Touch and Hand- 
ling. 

Strozzi Palace, Florence, 346, 347, 
359, 36o. 

St. Sophia, Constantinople, 78, 80, 
82, 86, 380. 

Stubbornness in countenance, 176. 

Style, Early, in all the arts less imi- 
tative in details than later, 385- 
396, 399-402 ; Greek and Gothic 
for groups of buildings contrasted, 
367, 369 ; for public institutions, 

367, 369. 

Styles of Architecture, 78, 379-384. 

Subjective expression, 30, 312. 

Subjects of art-works, as determin- 
ing their rank, 255, 256 ; causing 
allegorical painting, 248, 272, 
273 ; and sculpture, 266 ; histori- 
cal painting, 274-278 ; and sculp- 
ture, 286 ; mythological painting, 
272, 273 ; and sculpture, 286 ; 



INDEX. 



429 



symbolical painting, 272, 273 ; 
and sculpture, 2S6. 

Submission as expressed in counte- 
nance, 174. 

Substantiality as represented by out- 
line, 25, 37, 332. 

Summer Evening, A, picture, 270, 

273 : 

Superiority, Moral, as expressed in 
pose of head and figure, 178. 

Surface, Representation of, 41, 42, 
46-49 ; in color, 306, 307 ; in 
drawing, 293, 294 ; in sculpture, 
41, 302. 

Surprise as expressed in countenance 
and pose, 171, 175, 186, 187. 

Suspension Bridge, 20. 

Suspicion as expressed in the coun- 
tenance, amiable, 171, 186 ; un- 
amiable, 171, 177. 

Sustained expression, 30, 311, 312. 

Sydney, University at, 84, 324, 349, 
35i, 352, 355, 359, 360, 362, 369, 
380. 

Syllables in measures, 16, 57. 

Symbolic, painting, 272, 273 ; sculp- 
ture, 286. 

Symmetry, 93, 95, 96. 

Sympathetic nerves, 126, 127. 

Synthetic Philosophy of Expression, 
108. 

Tabernacle as represented in Tem- 
ple, 376, 377- 

Tadema, Alma, 307. 

Tails as interpretive, 112. 

Taking of Jerusalem, 248, 250, 265. 

Tall buildings, 364-367. 

Technique, necessity of, vii ; of ap- 
preciation of, 292 ; reason for 
denying necessity of, 243. 

Teeth as representative, 181, 189. 

Temperaments, 108-114, 124-127. 

Temples, Oriental, 376, 377. 

Tendrils as interpretive, 112. 

Teniers, 47. 

Tennyson, 40. 

Tent, as represented in temples and 
palaces, 376, 377, 386. 

Terborch, 307. 

Terminal elocutionary stress, 16. 

Terror as expressed in countenance, 
173, 183-186, 188. 



Testament of Eudamidas, picture, 

74- 
Texture, as represented in color, 

306, 307 ; in drawing, 41, 42, 293, 

294 ; in sculpture, 41, 303. 
Theseus, Temple of, 34-36, 38, 42, 

52, 84, 86, 322, 323, 380, 386, 

387, 389. 

Thoughts, as represented in art, 1, 
2, 23, 24, 214, 215, 226, 241 ; in 
buildings, 311-371 ; in paintings of 
animals, 262, 263 ; of landscapes, 
259-262 ; of portraits, 268, 269 ; 
in pictures and statues, 239-253 ; 
in shapes and movements of men, 
94-189 ; in shapes of nature, 59- 
94 ; in colors, 291-310. 

Threatening expressed in counte- 
nance and pose, 62, 65, 145, 167- 
171, 173, 183. 

Thumb as representative, 123, 124. 

Time as represented in painting, 
poetry, and sculpture, 245-251. 

Tissington Spires, landscape, 65, 66, 
67, 70, 72, 259, 399. 

Titian, 46, 227, 255, 295, 305. 

Titus, statue, 281, 282. 

Tomassee, 118. 

Tomb, of Giuliano de' Medici, 50, 
301, 302 ; Rock of Myra, 315, 316, 

375, 376, 387, 397, 403, 407. 

Tone, 18; as color, 192; correlated 
to color, 195-198 ; in elocution, 
196 ; mixed, 207. 

Torch, Representation of, in paint- 
ing, 298. 

Torso, as representative, no, 123, 
126, 142, 144, 146, 147. 

Touch, in painting, 15, 16, 19, 21, 
42-48, 55 ; in sculpture, 48-51. 

Tower or towers, 327, 330, 349, 355, 
357,.358, 371. 

Traditional in Architecture, 406. 

Trees looking like columns and 
arches, 32, 33, 84, 398, 399, 403. 

Triangle, 56. 

Trinity, Church, Boston, 35, 53, 54, 
84, 323, 334, 380 ; School, New 
York, 323, 362, 363, 369. 

Triumph as expressed in the coun- 
tenance, 179. 

Trochee, poetic measure, 59. 



43° PAINTING, SCULPTURE, AND ARCHITECTURE. 



Troyon, 307, 308. 

Trumpet, resembling red color, 201. 

Tudor Gothic, 380. 

Tunes of verse, 18. 

Turner, 73, 260. 

Turrets, 331, 332, 355, See Towers. 

Ugly or ugliness, 97-99, 102, 103. 

Unamiable suspicion expressed in 
countenance, 171, 177. 

Unconfiding pride expressed in 
countenance, 167, 176, 177. 

Unconscious, The, expressed in hu- 
man form, 61, 126. 

Unconstrained, The, expressed in 
human form, 61, 133. 

Uniformity, in colors, 199 ; in sky- 
line of street and institutional 
architecture, 362-364, 366, 367, 

370 ; not necessary to beauty or 
regularity of countenance, 100- 
103. 

Unity of style in groups of buildings, 

367. 
University, of Chicago, 367, 380 ; 

of Pennsylvania, 327,329, 331,355, 

371 ; at Sydney, 84, 324, 349, 351, 
352, 355, 359, 360, 362, 369, 380. 

Unsubstantiality as represented in 

size, 26. 
Unsustained expression, 30, 311-314. 
Unter den Linden, Berlin, 344, 360, 

364. 
Upward movements of gesture, 129, 
134, 137, 148-154; of eyes, 171, 

174. 
Useful feature, how developed into 
artistic, 318. 

Valmarina Palace, 324, 326, 348, 
358, 380. 

Value, in buildings, 366 ; in draw- 
ing, 304 ; in colors, 303, 304, 306, 
309. 

Van Beers, 270, 271, 273. 

Van Dyke, J. C., 292, 300, 301. 

Vanishing-point in painting, 91, 298. 

Variety of color, excitation in, 194, 
195-208 ; desirable and attainable 
in groups of buildings, 367, 369. 

Vatican, 247. 

Velasquez, 48. 



Velletri, 47. 

Ventilator on roofs, 331, 332. 

Venus, Earlier dignity of statues of, 
225. 

Venus, de' Medici, 76, 77, 138, 142, 
223, 225, 281 ; Leaving the Bath, 
76, 223, 225, 281, 282. 

Veronesi, P., 72, 276. 

Vertical lines, as representative, 66, 
67, 73-75, 78, 84, 90, 97, 187; 
in face, 166; in gestures, 150, 151, 
152. 

Verticality, 378. 

Visible, foundation, 322 ; represen- 
tation, 3, 14, 22, 23 ; roof, 359, 
360, 362 ; walls, 323. 

Vital expression in movements of 
body, 128, 133, 142, 144, 168- 
191 ; temperament, as manifested 
by breadth of figure and face, 
108-118; of hand, 121-124. See 
Physical. 

Vocal utterance, 2, 7. 

Voice in speech, 7. 

Von Schadow, 228. 



Wagner, iv, 402, 405. 

Walls, blank, 343 ; made represent- 
ative, 38, 323-352. 

Walker Museum, Chicago Univer- 
sity, 367, 369, 380. 

Walking, Expressiveness of, with 
breast and brow in advance, 145, 
147, 148, 169, 172; with face, 148, 
167, 171 ; upright, 149, 151, 169. 

Warm colors, 195-212. 

Water Color Exhibition, cover of 
catalogue, 232, 233. 

Waves, Colors of, 300. 

Weakness, Representation of, in 
size, 16, 25 ; in smoothness, 49 ; 
in relief, 50. 

Webb, Mrs. W. S., 264. 

Weight, Representation of, in size, 
24. 

Wells Cathedral, 203, 205, 380, 405. 

Werner's Magazine, 116. 

West, B., 226, 228. 

Westminster Abbey, 3S0, 403-405. 

Whew, Pointing of lips on uttering, 
182, 184. 



INDEX. 



431 



Whispers, representative in elocu- 
tion, 196, 207-211. 

White, color, 203, 204, 207, 210, 
211; for buildings, 204; marble 
for statues, 203. 

Whitney, 7. 

Width, Effect of, lessened by large- 
ness of environment, 32 ; by 
height, 34, 35 ; in doors repre- 
sentative of, 38. 

Wild Boar, picture, 47. 

Wilde, O., vii. 

Willems, F., 226, 307. 

Will-power, as represented, 19. 

Windows made representative, 38, 
342, 349- 352. 

Winkleman's Ancient Art, 73. 

Woman Taken in Adultery, The, 
picture, 129, 139, 140, 155, 158, 
164, 174, 186, 276, 287. 

Wonder as expressed in countenance, 

l8 -K 

Wood in buildings as represented in 



stone, 315-317. 375, 376, 378, 
407, 408. 
Woods, Scene in the, 32, 33, 73, 

399- 
Words, Origin of 4-7. 
Wordsworth, vi. 
Wouverman, 262. 
Wright of Derby, 131. 
Writing, as separated from art in 

Egypt, 221 ; in Greece, 222 ; 

early methods of, 216-221. 
Wyatt, 225, 315. 

Yankee Sullivan, 115, 119, 124. 
Yellow, Book, 234, 236 ; color as 

representative, 195, 197, 198, 200, 

210, 220. 
Yenouge, 93. 
Yerkes, C. T., 270, 271. 
Yielding as expressed in smooth 

surfaces, 49. 

Zouaves, color of uniform of, 200. 



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